


Our Hearts Battle a Fight Already Won

by Daytona444



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Biker AU, Deviates From Canon, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Manipulative Peter Hale, Mild Pain Kink, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dynamics, allison and scott are getting married
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daytona444/pseuds/Daytona444
Summary: Isaac doesn't know why he's back in Beacon Hills after he ran off four years ago. Well, Scott and Allison are finally tying the knot, but really, he could have sent a card or one of those edible arrangements. He didn't have to come back to see that nothing much has changed around here, including the Hale Wolves and the way they prowl around town on their rumbling bikes like they own it (which really, they always have). He didn't have to come back to the place where he fell in love only to have it taken away with a horrible secret and trust betrayed.Peter Hale will find out he's back and when he does, nothing will be able to save Isaac from those eyes that owned him from the start.





	1. Hallmark, anyone?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've never written for the fandom before but I stumbled across Peter/Isaac fiction while perusing some Sterek stories and the muse bug bite me. This was originally going to be a oneshot but it's expanded, so it'll probably be a couple chapters. I just wanted to toss this out there to see how people liked it. Also, I might write more for this verse because it's fun (I already have ideas brewing for how Stiles and Derek got together). Happy reading!
> 
> Oh, and getting some feedback would be lovely. 
> 
> Also, here's a playlist to listen to if you like while reading (I've never done this before, but I'm a little obsessed with Spotify at the moment):  
> War of Hearts - Ruelle  
> Black Sheep - Metric  
> River - Bishop  
> Heavy in Your Arms - Florence and the Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac doesn't know why he's back in Beacon Hills after he ran off four years ago. Well, Scott and Allison are finally tying the knot, but really, he could have sent a card or one of those edible arrangements. He didn't have to come back to see that nothing much has changed around here, including the Hale Wolves and the way they prowl around town on their rumbling bikes like they own it (which really, they always have). He didn't have to come back to the place where he fell in love only to have it taken away with a horrible secret and trust betrayed.
> 
> Peter Hale will find out he's back and when he does, nothing will be able to save Isaac from those eyes that owned him from the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've never written for the fandom before but I stumbled across Peter/Isaac fiction while perusing some Sterek stories and the muse bug bite me. This was originally going to be a oneshot but it's expanded, so it'll probably be a couple chapters. I just wanted to toss this out there to see how people liked it. Also, I might write more for this verse because it's fun (I already have ideas brewing for how Stiles and Derek got together). Happy reading!
> 
> Oh, and getting some feedback would be lovely. 
> 
> Also, here's a playlist to listen to if you like while reading (I've never done this before, but I'm a little obsessed with Spotify at the moment):  
> War of Hearts - Ruelle  
> Black Sheep - Metric  
> River - Bishop  
> Heavy in Your Arms - Florence and the Machine

Isaac doesn’t know why he’s back here.

Well, he does. Scott and Allison are finally getting married. After years of gang rivalry and a love that could rival Romeo and Juliet, Scott convinced Allison they were worth it enough to make it permanent.

It still doesn’t explain why Isaac decided to physically come back for the wedding. He could have sent a card or an edible arrangement. Scott would have understood. And yet, Isaac found himself here on the outskirts of his hometown. Four years should be long enough to let go.

Beacon Hills never looked so small and yet so daunting.

With a sigh, he kicked his bike into gear and sped down the road with a grumbling roar, the sun breaking along the horizon the only warm welcome he’d probably get here.

The address Scott gave him led him to a newly renovated area near the more artsy district in downtown. Streets filled with early Monday morning traffic but Isaac weaved through it effortlessly, guiding his bike like a snake slithering along water. He found a spot to park along the main road and headed toward a brick townhome between two others, similar but still characteristically different. Isaac remembered Scott telling him over Skype that these buildings had some sort of historic significance and couldn’t be changed except for some minor renovations. Scott always sounded so proud when he talked about owning his own place and Isaac always thought he was hopelessly endearing with his desire for domesticity and independence from the pack.

“Isaac! You’re here!”

Isaac looked up, helmet in hand. Allison stood on the porch, dark hair in a loose bun and wearing workout clothes. She darted down the stairs and practically jumped on him. He laughed and hugged her tightly, trying not to hit her with his helmet.

“Going somewhere?” Isaac stepped back and put his helmet away.

“Going for a run.” She shook her phone at him. “Lydia threatened bridal boot camp.”

“Lydia’s here?” Isaac raised an eyebrow. They had kept in touch because no one said no to Lydia, but last he heard she was in New York working on her masters.

“She flew in on Saturday.” Allison began jogging in place, her smile beaming. “She has _plans_ for this week.”

“I’m sure she does. Good luck.”

Allison rolled her eyes but her fond smile revealed how she felt about her best friend. “Well, Scott’s making breakfast. You can go right in.”

“Scott’s right here.” A cheery voice answered at the door. Scott looked like he had just woken up if his worn pajama pants had anything to say about it, but his warm eyes were bright with excitement. He ran down the stairs and hugged Isaac, patting his back. “Where’s all your stuff man?”

Isaac scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. He opened his seat and pulled out a backpack, hardly filled like it should be for a week-long stay. “Uh, I was planning on buying some things out here?”

Scott shook his head with a laugh, beckoning Isaac inside. “Still hopeless.” He leaned in and kissed Allison on the cheek. “See you after your run, babe.”

Allison blew them both kisses and jogged away. Isaac looked at Scott’s welcoming face and the smell of bacon filtering out of their home and couldn’t help but think maybe this trip wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

*********************************

This trip was such a bad idea.

After breakfast, Lydia heard from Allison about his “dire” clothing situation and she came over and took Isaac shopping, which turned into a five-hour affair with only a minimal makeover meltdown from the strawberry blonde. He’d have to ship his new wardrobe home, but it was nice to be fussed over. It reminded him of when they were in high school and he had a family to worry over him. A mismatched pack he loved. He told himself he didn’t miss being taken care of, because those thoughts led to the man that always made sure he wanted for nothing and that was dangerous territory for his mind to slip into.

They were putting his hoard of shopping bags into the trunk of Lydia’s rental when he heard it, an engine rumbling like a landslide. Isaac’s shoulders tensed. He already made a deal with himself to refuse to be afraid of every motorcycle he heard in town, but he knew that engine like a child remembered their favorite lullaby. It haunted his dreams when loneliness cradled him at nights.

“Derek.” Lydia’s voice held slight disdain, but her eyes showed her surprise.

Isaac whipped his head around, eyebrows confused. This couldn’t be happening right now. His blue eyes raked along the bike he remembered so well, but the wrong body settled on top of it. Where he expected a playful smirk and sharp eyes, he met the brooding gaze and twisted mouth of Derek Hale. He looked just as menacing as before, his moodiness chiseled like his sharp cheekbones. Isaac and Derek stared at each other for a tense moment and like time hadn’t passed, Isaac gave in first. He always did.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Isaac held his arm across his waist, trying not to curl his shoulders in defense.

“I thought Boyd was kidding when he said he saw you in town.” Derek grumbled, setting his feet on the ground but making no move to get off the bike. “That you came back.”

“I’m not back-”

“Right, just visiting.” Derek cut him off and crossed his arms over his chest, leather jacket rustling with the movement. “Without telling anyone. Sneaking in like you snuck out?”

“Why are you on his bike?” Isaac said instead, immediately defensive and hating that this is how they’re meeting again. Of course, neither of them had ever been good with communication so this should be expected. Isaac felt Lydia’s glare at the back of his head for asking what he’s not supposed to be asking, but he needed to know. Scott would have told him if something happened to Peter but his stomach twisted anyway.

“Relax, Aidan’s working on mine.” Derek raised an unimpressed eyebrow like he knew what was running through Isaac’s panicking mind.

Isaac’s shoulders immediately fell in relief, but Derek’s next words made them tighten again.

“He doesn’t know you’re here. I recommend keeping it that way.”

“You know that’s unrealistic,” Lydia cut in, flipping her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. “No one can keep a secret in this town, let alone from _him_.”

“Yeah, well I won’t be the one to tell him. You’d be better off staying away.”

“I wasn’t planning on seeing him.” Isaac tugged on his scarf and looked down, feeling the lie loud on his lips as if he yelled it.

Derek snorted. “It’s best if you don’t. He’ll come for you once he finds out.” He revved the bike and picked his legs up. “You shouldn’t have come back.”

With that, he rode off, leaving Isaac’s chest fluttering like a firefly stuck in a sealed jar.

“Welcome back, Isaac, missed you too,” he muttered dryly under his breath, but it must have been loud enough because Lydia laughed bitterly.

“Come on, Isaac. I know some people that will actually be glad to see you.” Lydia didn’t wait for an answer as she got in the car.

Isaac tugged on his scarf again. Lydia continued to chatter away while they drove through town but all Isaac could hear was Derek’s voice on repeat. _He’ll come for you._

***********************

He never came. Granted it was only Wednesday. It had only been two days, but Isaac knew Peter Hale better than he probably should. The Peter Hale he remembered would have showed up Monday night and dragged him back to the Hale house demanding his whereabouts for the past four years and then remind him who owned him. Hell, he would have been lounging against the Beacon Hills entry sign when Isaac rode in Monday morning, looking smug like he summoned Isaac himself. Peter always understood him better than Isaac understood himself.

Luckily, Scott kept Isaac busy with wedding stuff. Since he had the best penmanship, Allison volunteered him to write out the table signs for each guest. He didn’t argue, because it meant he could stay at Scott’s without running into anyone at the wedding venue, where he assumed most of the pack would be helping with decorations and last-minute details. If asked, he refused to admit he was hiding.

Scott and Allison made sure their fridge housed all of Isaac’s favorite snacks during his stay. Allison made a point to show him the large tub of Rocky Road ice cream, remembering how often he ate it when they were in high school. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he stopped eating it because it reminded him of memories he didn’t want to relive. He stared at the tempting tub for two days before finally giving in. It would be rude not to eat it and the brightness of Allison’s smile when she pushed it toward him filled him with guilt.

He ate it straight from the carton and pretended he wasn’t affected. He pretended the taste of Rocky Road didn’t remind him of when he first met Peter all those years ago.

He was fifteen and partnered with Cora Hale for an English project. He refused to work at his house in case his dad was having a bad day, so Cora offered up hers. Everyone knew about the Hale Wolves and their reputation. The Hale family was one of the original founding families of the town and somehow along the way, bikes and wolves became their symbol. They helped keep the town safe when the officials couldn’t so people rarely complained when they rumbled into town on their bikes like posturing puppies.

Isaac looked at the large Hale manor in awe. Isaac knew about the Hale fire. Everyone did. The house had been patched up and looked fresh off the market without any sign of damage or heartbreak. The only indicator of the tragedy was a small group of headstones by the large oak in the back of the house serving as a memory never forgotten.

They studied in the dining room, books spread out and bowls of ice cream in hand. They had been talking and laughing more than studying and Laura, Cora’s older sister, had popped her head in multiple times to tell them to focus before she went back to making dinner.

Isaac had been laughing at something Cora said when Peter walked in. A white shirt rubbed between his dirty hands as he tried to wipe the grease off his bare chest. Isaac was in the middle of taking a bite of ice cream when he looked up, but froze until the ice cream melted off his spoon and fell on his shirt. He cursed and dabbed at it with his hand because he couldn’t find a napkin, ignoring Cora’s laugh.

He scooped up the fallen ice cream with his finger and brought it to his lips to suck off, unaware of his audience. Bright blue eyes glanced up to find the older shirtless man staring at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk on his lips. Isaac blushed and looked away.

“Must be some damn good ice cream hmm? I can appreciate someone who doesn’t waste a good thing,” he said with a wink and if Isaac was asked about it later, he would have said Peter purred the words, because that damn man never seemed to simply speak. He left after that and Isaac could hear water running but refused to think about anything further. His cheeks already burned from the memory of how Peter’s abs glistened with sweat and car grease.

“Sorry, that’s my Uncle Peter. He’s weird but he teased you, which means he likes you,” Cora said, her nose scrunched up when she looked at Isaac’s red face. “Are you feeling alright?”

Isaac cleared his throat and nodded before diving into his studies. Peter never came back out the rest of the night, but Isaac heard an engine roar outside as someone rode away. It reminded him of a landslide.

Isaac opened his eyes and pushed the carton of ice cream to the side, feeling it turn in his stomach from the memory. He looked at the clock and capped his pen with a sigh. He was due to have lunch with Danny and Ethan in an hour. Hopefully without any unwanted memories creeping in.

**********************

After catching up with the couple, Isaac arrived at Scott and Allison’s with just enough time to get ready for Scott’s bachelor party.

“Who has a bachelor party on a Wednesday night?” Isaac leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Stiles pour shots of vodka in three small glasses.

“You didn’t help plan it so you don’t get a say, and you know pack dinner is on Fridays.” Stiles grabbed a shot glass and downed it, his body shaking after like someone electrocuted him.

“Still can’t handle your liquor?” Isaac taunted, relishing the burn down his throat when he took his shot.

“Shut up.” Stiles poured another round for them. Stiles was the only other person that stayed in Beacon Hills that Isaac really kept in touch with over the past four years, even if their catching up involved more snarky bickering than heartfelt reunions.

“So where are we going anyway? And who’s driving?” Isaac swallowed the second shot and licked his lips. “Because last I heard, your dad is still Sheriff and I’d rather not spend my vacation in a prison cell with your dad staring me down in disappointment.”

Isaac had had enough of that before. Sheriff Stilinski knew about his abusive relationship with his father and then his relationship with Peter, which he constantly tried to undermine by threatening Peter with pedophile charges. He knew Stiles’ dad meant well, but Isaac had a hard time being around his sympathetic eyes and fatherly attempts at protection.

Stiles wiped his lips with his hand. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Derek’s coming to pick us up.”

Isaac’s fingers loosened and he almost dropped the empty shot glass. “What?”

“Derek.” Stiles looked at Isaac like he was dumb. “You know, my boyfriend? The one who used to be your best friend-”

“Yeah, I got it,” Isaac snapped as he slammed the glass down on the kitchen counter. He suddenly felt dizzy and he wasn’t sure if it was from the vodka thrumming through his veins or from the thought of seeing Derek again after their little parking lot meet and greet. The thought of seeing any of the Hale Wolves again sent his skin scorching with nerves. “Fuck, Stiles, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you would have stayed sober and locked yourself in Scott’s bedroom,” Stiles raised his eyebrows as if challenging Isaac to deny it.

“I wouldn’t take it that far…”

“He has a point,” Scott cut in with an unsure smile. He squeezed Isaac’s shoulder until he relaxed. “You have been hiding out since you got here.”

“Fine, I’m a drama queen. Let’s move on.” He sighed and poured himself another shot before downing it, licking his lips after to relish in the bitterness.

“There’s a good boy.” Stiles smacked Isaac’s back with a wide smile. Isaac tried not to choke at the endearment. There’s no way Stiles could have known how much that term of endearment meant to Isaac or how often Peter exploited it to get his way. A musical ringtone interrupted Isaac’s thoughts.

‘Hungry Like the Wolf’ filled the kitchen and Stiles reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone. “Hey baby. You’re outside? Great, we’re heading down now.” Stiles hung up and grabbed his jacket off the dining room chair. “Time to go boys. The night is young and so are we!”

Isaac threw his leather jacket on and looked at Stiles with a smirk. “You really have Duran Duran as your ringtone?”

“Just for Derek.” Stiles looked back, honey eyes gleaming. “It’s worth the irritated look he gives me.”

“You guys really have a special relationship.” Isaac rolled his eyes. Only Stiles would get off on making the second scariest guy in Beacon Hills angry on a daily basis.

Derek’s Camaro rumbled outside of Scott’s flat, still as sleek as Isaac remembered it. The Camaro always reminded him of drive-in movies with the younger members of the pack and long drives through the woods on lazy Sunday mornings.

When Stiles opened the door, Derek kept his gaze forward, eyebrows low.

“He’s not getting in.” It wasn’t an observation but rather a demand, all posturing and gravel in Derek’s voice.

“Now you listen here, Sourwolf.” Derek tensed at the nickname but didn’t look at Stiles as he continued speaking. “Isaac is our friend. Just because Scott and I keep in touch with him and you don’t isn’t our problem. It’s not our fault that both of you are too emotionally constipated to chat it out.”

Derek’s eyebrows raised into his hairline and he turned to his boyfriend. “You’ve been keeping in touch with him?”

“You didn’t tell him we’ve been talking?” Isaac asked as he approached the car, his expression matching Derek’s.

Stiles sighed in exasperation as he looked between them. “Really? That’s what you get from this conversation?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Remind me again why we’re dating?”

“Because the sex is mind blowing.” Isaac deadpanned.

“Oh yes, thank you for that reminder.” Stiles pulled back the front seat so Scott and Isaac could squish in the back. Isaac hesitated but sighed and stuffed himself in the back, purposefully avoiding Derek’s glare in the rearview mirror.

“You talk about our sex life?”

“Yea, it’s disgusting.” Isaac buckled his seat belt and leaned back with his eyes closed. For a moment, it felt like old times. Like they could pretend nothing’s changed and that Isaac didn’t walk out on everyone without so much as a goodbye.

“I’m not emotionally constipated.” Derek mumbled under his breath as he shifted gears, peeling off the main street. His lips formed into a frustrated pout that Stiles tried not to find adorable but always failed.

“I’ll make it up to you later.” Stiles reached over and kissed Derek’s cheek. Isaac tried not to find their affection endearing especially when Derek literally preened under the attention like a pleased pup.

“So where are we going again?” Isaac tapped his fingers along his thigh impatiently.

Derek opened his mouth, but Stiles cut him off. “You’ll see.”

Isaac couldn’t see Stiles’ face but he knew that tone and that tone never promised anything good.

********************

“No. No way.” Isaac clenched his fists. “I’m not going in there.”

“Fine with me.” Derek thrust his car door open and got out before he slammed it and walked away, not looking back.

“You guys really need to have a talk.” Scott sighed, watching Derek’s back with a worried frown.

“Or a fist fight.” Stiles added thoughtfully. “The Hales still have that boxing ring in their back yard. I could probably find some Socker Boppers on EBAY…”

“Stiles focus,” Scott laughed.

Isaac ignored them and stared through the windshield at the building in front of them. He couldn’t believe they brought him here. They should have just dropped him off at the Hale house, bound and gagged for their Alpha to enjoy, which really should have put Isaac off more than turned him on, but he stopped questioning why he liked what he did in the bedroom long ago.

A large sign with a howling wolf sat on top of the large building, blinking red. There were rows of bikes parked out in front, their metal gleaming underneath the lights of the neon sign of the bar like polished jewels.

“Wolfsbane? Really?” Isaac knew he was whining but he didn’t care. “Is this your version of an intervention?”

“No, this is our version of a bachelor party.” Stiles opened the car door and to let them out. “Come on, scaredy cat. You can’t pretend you didn’t see this coming.”

Stiles grinned and headed toward the bar entrance where Derek leaned against the wall outside, obviously waiting for him but trying not to look it. Stiles wrapped his arms around his moody boyfriend and kissed him deeply before grabbing his hand and dragging him into the bar.

“Are you going to be okay?” Scott’s soft concerned voice helped ease Isaac’s quickened breaths.

“Yeah,” Isaac swallowed. “Yeah. I mean, I knew I would have to face them sooner or later right? Besides tonight is about you.”

Scott gave him a warm smile and hugged Isaac quickly before pushing him out of the car. “Drinks will help.” He scrunched up his nose and tilted his head, which made Isaac think of a puppy. “I think.”

Isaac laughed and followed him, hands stuffed in his pockets to control their shaking. He remembered all the nights he, Cora, and Erica snuck into Wolfsbane and tried to get Derek to give them drinks. He never would because they were still in high school and he’s a stickler like that, but sometimes Laura let them drink some of the cheap stuff if they stayed in the back office. He wondered if it still looked the same inside.

When Scott opened the door, the sounds of the bar smacked Isaac’s senses around until he felt dizzy. The jukebox blared a sultry tune in the corner and Isaac recognized it as the same one from before because Peter refused to get a DJ even for nights like tonight. Every corner seemed to be filled with noise, bikers playing pool in the back, couples dancing in the center of the floor, and the bar filled with women hoping to attach themselves to one of the Hale wolves for the prestige of it. Nothing had changed and Isaac felt oddly glad for it.

As soon as they entered, someone grabbed Scott and threw him over their shoulder much to the excited shouts from the crowd. Scott looked up at Isaac as he was carried away into the cheering mass of leather jackets and toasting beer bottles. Isaac merely shook his head with a smile and waved him away. He lingered near the door, practically in the way of the entrance but his feet wouldn’t move. It wasn’t the first time he wished he wasn’t so tall or so blonde.

It didn’t take long for the excitement of Scott’s arrival to settle enough for others to notice the tall outsider that used to be a part of the central core of their pack. Eyes shifted to him curiously and whispers grew into a soft crescendo until a hand landed on Isaac’s shoulder in a firm grip. Isaac hated how he tensed.

“Dude, relax. I’ll protect you from the wolves.” Stiles laughed as he pulled Isaac toward the bar. He sipped a drink the color of radiator fluid through a ridiculous pink-striped bendy straw. Stiles lifted the drink to Isaac’s lips. “This will help.”

“Does Derek get those straws just for you?” Stiles’ blush was answer enough. Isaac rolled his eyes and took a large sip, nose wrinkling after. “Ugh, it tastes like a gummy bear. What are you? Twelve?”

“Says the guy who drinks adult fruit juice.”

“It’s called cider and lots of people drink it.”

“Yeah, people who go to your scarf club.” Stiles took his drink back and slipped the straw between his lips again. It could have been considered sexy the way he was tonguing the straw but when he started chewing on it in distraction, it reminded Isaac more of the hyperactive teen that always irritated him back in high school. “Come on, let’s get you some sophisticated cider to go with your infinity scarf.”

“The fact that you know what they’re called gives you an honorary membership.”

They found an empty space at the bar and Isaac refused to look around again. He knew if people wanted to talk to him, they’d approach. One thing the Hale wolves were not was shy.

As if summoned, a familiar blonde head sauntered up to Isaac’s other side. He saw a flash of red lips and a mix of excitement and fear shifted in his heart.

“Long time no see, Blondie.” Erica smiled as she leaned against the bar but her eyes looked like sharpened glass underneath false lashes.

“Hello, Sunshine.” Isaac turned toward her and bit his lower lip, wary to make any quick movements. They stared at each other before Erica jumped into his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as she hugged him fiercely. Her long nails scratched up his neck to his curls and Isaac felt his body instantly relax, reminded of Saturday afternoons on the couch watching chick flicks and gorging on candy while Erica scratched his scalp until he fell asleep.

She unwrapped her legs from his waist and pulled back. Then, she slapped his cheek. “Now we’re even. You’re just too pretty to be mad at.”

“Which I won’t be if you go for the face again.” Isaac rubbed his cheek but smiled. She had merely tapped his cheek playfully, hardly using any of her strength. She had forgiven him.

“Well don’t leave next time without a head’s up and you get to keep your cute face intact.”

“Okay, enough Lifetime bullshit. Let’s drink.” Stiles tried to wave a bartender down, his arms flailing.

“Whatever. We all know how much you love Lifetime.” Erica smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.

“That would be Derek, sweetheart.” Stiles stuck his tongue out before he practically crawled on the bar. “Boyd! We need shots pronto!”

Boyd looked over from where he was drying glasses and rolled his eyes. He swung his bar towel over his shoulder and headed toward them. “Get off the bar, Little Red. I don’t care if you’re screwing the owner, no one wants your ass where we serve the liquor.” He looked straight at Isaac, his face unreadable. He didn’t look surprised to see him, but then Isaac remembered Derek saying Boyd was the one who noticed him in town. Isaac tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace.

“They still call you Little Red?” Isaac commented on instead, looking away from Boyd’s imploring gaze. Erica may be the outwardly fierce one but Isaac knew how much pack loyalty meant to Boyd and how disrespecting that could make Boyd’s steel composure bend. It was one of the reasons he never reached out to Boyd after he left. He was too chicken to deal with the aftermath.

“These people are sadists.” Stiles’ voice grew louder as if he was announcing it to the whole bar. The fact that no one paid him any mind told Isaac just how much Stiles’ special brand of humor was integrated here.

“And yet you still wore that red hoodie every day.” Erica reached across Isaac and stole Stiles’ drink. She ignored his squawk when she picked out his straw and tossed the rest of the drink back, her throat swallowing it easily. “In fact, you wore it just last week.”

“It’s comfortable.”

“Masochist,” Erica smiled in delight before turning to Boyd. “Babe, give your girl something with whiskey.”

Boyd nodded and moved his arms like a well-trained octopus. He poured out four shots, passing three to them and keeping one for himself. He raised his glass and stared at Isaac in that quietly unnerving way of his that could make anyone confess to a crime, even one they didn’t commit.

“Don’t ignore us again or I’ll let her loose on you.” He tipped his head toward Erica with a wink before downing the liquor. Isaac nodded with a small smile and followed suit, the tingles from the whiskey making him more aware of the thump of bass coming from the jukebox.

“Come on, Stud. Let’s dance.” Erica grabbed Isaac’s hand and pulled him toward the makeshift dance floor, leaving Stile behind to molest another bendy straw. There were some people on the floor but it wasn’t so packed that Isaac felt suffocated. This felt familiar. Erica pressed back against him while they grinded to the beat. It’s never been sexual between them and it isn’t now either. They’re just two bodies among others, lost to the beat of the music. Isaac closed his eyes and tipped his head back so the music could pump through him like the blood in his veins. This was the kind of escape he enjoyed. He liked being surrounded by people but not having to interact if he didn’t want to. He didn’t feel so alone when everyone moved together, undulating like ripples in a pond.

He remembered dancing here to the same jukebox blaring and the same dim lighting that felt private. He remembered what it felt like to be in Erica’s place, with a hard body pressed against his back and persistent fingers digging into his hips, controlling him like a marionette. He remembered teasing words bit into his neck when he rested his head back against a solid shoulder, torn between wanting to freeze the moment and escaping to the back office to fulfill the filthy promises Peter whispered in his ear.

He shivered at the memory and snapped his eyes open. He couldn’t forget where he was. He couldn’t forget Peter must be lurking around here somewhere like a shadow. In fact, he felt like he was being watched by those eyes that saw too much. He ignored the fact that Peter never came to find him or drag him home when he left, but Isaac was in his territory now. He was free game for the hunting.

“I need a drink,” he whispered hoarsely in Erica’s ear.

She playfully pushed him away with a wink before grabbing the nearest girl and dancing with her instead. Isaac found an opening near the end of the bar and he slid up against it, resting his elbows on the countertop while he waited to be noticed. A loud shout from the back corner had Isaac turning his head.

Scott and some guys Isaac recognized from high school played a round of darts. Scott definitely had more to drink, because every dart he threw missed spectacularly. Isaac saw one stuck in the ceiling and suppressed a laugh. Stiles shoved a beer in one of Scott’s hands and a dart in the other before pushing him toward the dartboard again. Scott tried to throw the dart but it didn’t even make it to the board, instead falling to the ground like a crashing plane. Scott laughed and smiled good-naturedly before clinking his bottle with Stiles and chugging it. There was a time when Isaac wished he could have fallen in love with someone pure and good like Scott. Someone who only joined the Hale Wolves so he could protect his friends and help Beacon Hills when the law couldn’t. Isaac shook his head fondly and glanced down at his clasped fingers. No, he preferred the manipulative and broken types with mocking mouths.

“Did you lose your way to the shelter, pup?”

Speak of the devil. Isaac choked on his breath at the nickname, remembering how often it was spoken against his sweaty skin while Peter pressed into him from behind, relentless with his fucking until Isaac yielded. Isaac tightened his clasped hands until the knuckles whitened. He closed his eyes and forced a deep breath before turning around and leaning back against the bar until it cut into his waist painfully. Pain always helped ground him. He tried to look casual and careless but he knew Peter saw right through him. The amused glimmer in his eyes told Isaac that much.

Two bodies flanked Peter. One, a smirking boy about Isaac’s age with the brightest green eyes he’s ever seen and the second, a giggling girl who seemed to have lost most of her clothes somewhere in the bar and decided Peter’s would be a suitable substitute, considering how much she kept tugging at his shirt. They’re both draped around him like a tight-fitting jacket, something he can discard later. Isaac felt sick, a twist of jealousy jabbed like a knife in his gut.

“Funny,” Isaac said, trying to keep his voice snide and steady. His eyes looked everywhere but at Peter’s. “I always thought this place was a shelter for stray _pups_.”

“Cute.” Peter narrowed his eyes as he dragged them along Isaac’s body like a possessive caress. “Learned some insolence while you were away?”

The girl giggled again and tugged at the hem of Peter’s shirt, obvious with her need for attention. Isaac couldn’t help but wonder if he had looked like this on Peter’s arm, all wanton and needy. He knew the answer. Really it wasn’t a question. He had always been desperate for Peter’s attention. Even now, he fought the urge to press himself against Peter, wanting to claim him and be claimed in return in front of the pack.

“Alpha, you promised me a dance.” She blinked her large brown eyes up at him. Most men wouldn’t be able to resist her but Peter had more self-control than Isaac had ever seen in someone and he knew a pretty face didn’t sway him unless he wanted to be swayed.

“That I did, but I have some business to attend to at the moment,” Peter purred but his eyes still hadn’t left Isaac yet. It made Isaac want to fidget but he refused to show submission, even if that’s what he yearned to do. “Why don’t you go be a dear and dance with our guest of honor? I’m sure McCall would appreciate your talents.”

They both knew Scott wouldn’t lay a finger on her, he was too honorable, but the bombshell seemed to think it was a fine idea. She kissed Peter’s cheek and flounced off. Isaac’s eyes moved to the boy still by Peter’s side. Peter’s arm wrapped around the slim boy’s waist, fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt tightly like one would hold a dog leash.

Isaac swallowed down bile when Peter leaned in and kissed the boy, sliding his tongue harshly into his mouth until the boy became pliant underneath his touch. The worst part was, Peter’s eyes never left Isaac’s, holding him captive with just a look as he sucked on the boy’s bottom lip. This was just another game, just another test of dominance and mind-fuckery that Peter had a doctorate in. Isaac knew better than to be affected but his skin prickled with jealousy while he watched their tongues slide together.

When nausea threatened to overtake him, Isaac tore his eyes away and looked at the floor. His eyes stung like he forgot to blink and he focused his attention to the scuff on his shoe. He needed to focus on anything besides how easily Peter Hale could own him without touching him.

He should get out of here. Maybe follow that bombshell to Scott where he might feel a little safer, or even find Derek so they can stare at each other awkwardly until they forgive each other. Anywhere but here. A finger tipped his chin up and he knew it was too late to run now.

“There’s no need to be shy,” Peter murmured, trailing his finger along Isaac’s jaw until it outlined his cheekbone, leaving a line of tingling fire behind. The boy with the green eyes disappeared, probably dismissed as easily as the girl, because Peter didn’t allow clinginess when he didn’t want it.

Isaac shuddered out a breath and forced his eyes back up. He grabbed Peter’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. Peter’s eyes flashed in irritation for a moment before he smiled again, all charm and control.

“I thought you liked me shy.” Isaac gazed from underneath his lashes, shivering when he heard Peter’s throaty growl. He knew better than to encourage this game they played but his voice spoke the words without his control, uncaring if it complicated things. He felt himself slip into the role he always played with his Alpha.

Peter leaned in, his hand slipping around Isaac’s waist and maneuvering itself under his shirt until his thumb pressed into the soft skin of Isaac’s hipbone. The smell of smoke and citrus overwhelmed Isaac like a bad dream. “I liked you a lot of ways if you remember correctly.”

Isaac swallowed and tried to lean away from Peter’s touch, but the bar pressing into his back kept him stuck. Peter tried to pull him forward, but Isaac resisted which only made Peter huff in exasperation and press up against him instead.

Peter’s body felt warm and solid, more comforting than suffocating and Isaac really wished it was the latter instead. It made pushing him away that much more difficult. People stared at them, some with open mistrust and others with amusement and Isaac craved privacy more than anything right now.

“Peter, please stop.”

“Now, now pup, that’s not what you call me and you know it.” Peter leaned in and brushed his stubble along the tender skin of Isaac’s neck, making heat pool in his groin.

“I’m not calling you that here,” Isaac stammered. His hands still grasped the bar behind him, fingers clenching the wood to steady himself. He refused to give in and touch Peter. He refused to lose this easily even if his nerves begged him to.

“You’re no fun,” Peter murmured against his skin.

“You don’t get to do this. You can’t just walk up to me like nothing has changed.”

“I’ll do whatever I damn well please, pup.” Peter demonstrated this by pulling down Isaac’s scarf and licking a line up his neck before nipping under his ear, a clear reprimand for being denied what he wanted.

“Peter, I’m serious.” Isaac didn’t know how much longer he could handle the assault on his senses. His fingers twitched again but stayed on the bar counter.

“So am I.” Peter chuckled breathlessly against his cheek and that’s when Isaac smelled it. Aberlour 18-year-old scotch. The good stuff Peter only brought out once a year when grief smothered the Hale pack for a family lost. But today wasn’t that date; it was nowhere near that date. That scotch represented grief and the hopelessness involved with losing those once loved and yet Peter’s breath reeked of it.

Any doubts Isaac had about Peter being in control of the situation washed away like the scotch always did to Peter’s grief. Peter must be shattered. Isaac didn’t understand. Scott and Stiles assured him everything was fine in Beacon Hills. Multiple times Isaac expressed the desire to come back but he had been told Peter moved on and coming here would only hurt Isaac, but the scotch didn’t lie and now Isaac was nauseous for a different reason.

“Peter,” Isaac whispered like he would to a caged beast, “Peter, look at me.”

Peter kept his cheek pressed against Isaac’s, his fingers digging into his hips painfully. He moved his lips to Isaac’s ear, voice rumbling like the motor of his bike. “See you at pack dinner.”

He nipped Isaac’s throat once more before pushing himself off and storming away to the back office, the wolf stitched on the back of his jacket glaring at him like this was all Isaac’s fault. Derek leaned against the wall by the office entrance, arms crossed and eyebrows drawn. His eyes steeped in irritation as they stared down Isaac until finally his shook his head and followed his uncle into the office, slamming the door behind them.

Isaac released his held breath and turned back toward the bar to avoid curious eyes. Boyd’s quietly strong presence lingered in front of him and he jumped slightly. Isaac wondered how much he heard. Boyd held a highball filled with an amber liquid and passed it to Isaac without a word. Isaac nodded his thanks and downed it in one gulp, letting it burn away his anxiety until all that remained was the sweet numbness of good liquor.

Pack Dinner. Isaac wanted to laugh but feared he would start to sob instead. It was a demand, not a request. Isaac wanted to disobey and jump on his bike, head back to the comforts of Washington, but the rich smell of floral scotch on Peter’s breath made his decision for him. He wouldn’t be able to refuse now.

Isaac knew coming back here was a mistake. He should have just sent a card.

 

 


	2. Memory Lane is Closed for Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain Hale makes a house call and the longer Isaac's at Beacon Hills, the easier the memories start to flow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you everyone for the response! I hope this chapter entertains. As always, thank you for reading and feel free to leave a note (they really do help I'm not gonna lie).
> 
> Music recommended:  
> Mery - Duffy  
> Arsonist's Lullaby - Hozier  
> Tethered to the Dark - Anya Marina  
> Beautiful Hell - Adna

Isaac’s head beat against his skull like a teased chimpanzee in a cage. He groaned and rolled over toward the bedside table where a glass of water and two tablets greeted him. Thank god for Scott, Isaac thought as he gobbled up the Advil and downed the water, some of it dripping down his chin.

He threw his head back against his pillow and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pounding of his temples, but it seemed to get louder to the point that it reminded him of a persistent knocking sound instead. He opened one eye and looked toward his closed bedroom door. The sound wasn’t coming from there, but rather beyond. Front door then. He squinted as if he could see through the wood before finally giving up and throwing the blankets over his head, burrowing himself in a cave of comforters.

Scott or Allison could get the door, he reasoned, it was their place anyway. The pounding seemed to stop and Isaac made a pleased little noise and wiggled into his bed with satisfaction, but the victory was too soon because the knocking picked up again, this time more persistent and louder. That’s when Isaac’s muddled mind remembered Scott saying something about having an appointment with the caterers that morning before he went to work and that Allison had been kidnapped by Lydia for the rest of the week to stay at the hotel with her so she wouldn’t be around either.

Isaac groaned loudly but knew the knocking wouldn’t stop until the door busted down and Isaac really didn’t want to have to explain that to his friends. He kicked the covers off and stumbled through the hall until he met with the offending noise. He unlocked the front door quickly and threw it open, not bothering to check who would be this annoyingly stubborn.

“About time.”

Isaac rubbed his eyes, stopping at the smoky tone of voice. It couldn’t be. “Laura?”

“One and only, stud.” Laura grinned, dressed in riding leathers and looking like she stepped out of a magazine.

Isaac gripped the door tightly, tempted to shut it even if he knew that was a death wish waiting to happen.

“Don’t shut the door.” Laura warned with a finger, her green eyes sharp. She was always good at knowing his tells.

“Why are you here?” Isaac rubbed his eyes again, wishing the spots of light outside would stop blinding him.

“I heard you made a comeback and I wanted to see for myself.”

“I’m not Britney Spears.”

“Nah, you’re cuter. Now let me in unless you want to keep giving the neighborhood a free show.”

Isaac looked down to where Laura gestured and immediately flushed. He only wore his boxer briefs which left little to the imagination. If Laura hadn’t already seen him naked so often when he lived at the Hale house, he would have felt more embarrassed. He stepped back quickly and swung his arm out like a hotel doorman. They both knew she’d walk in anyway even if he refused.

He went to pour himself some more water from the kitchen and gulped it down his scratchy throat.

“Hungover?”

Isaac nodded before refilling his glass again.

“Boyd’s a beast of a bartender. He was working last night, right?”

“Yeah, I think it was his payback for me leaving.”

“Yes, well, you upset a lot of people with your little Houdini act. You’re lucky Scott knew about it or we would have put out a chase. Not that some tried anyway…” Laura grumbled out the last part so Isaac wasn’t sure if he heard correctly. She lounged back on the couch like a relaxed panther.

“I just had to get away from here.”

“No excuses, babe. I don’t need to hear it. The past is the past.” Laura flicked her wrist, shiny gold bangles clinking together. She never did like silver. “We all make mistakes when we’re young… and some of us with Peter Pan complexes continue to make them.”

Isaac tried not to smirk, knowing exactly who she was talking about and thinking Peter Hale would never be caught dead in tights. He looked down at the cup in his hands and trailed his finger along the rim in slow circles. “I missed you, Laura.”

“I know, sugar.”

Isaac heard her get off the couch before slim arms wrapped around him from behind. Isaac sighed and placed the glass down before covering her small hands with his. “Please forgive me.” I can’t handle you being made at me too, is what he refused to say, but Laura seemed to understand because she squeezed him more.

“I don’t hold onto grudges as tightly as the rest of my emotionally-constipated family. I forgave you years ago, Isaac. I just hope you can forgive yourself one day.” She patted his back, always seeming to know his secret insecurities and self-sabotaging ways. “Now, go take a shower and get dressed. You smell like booze and bad choices.”

“Aren’t they best friends?”

“Hurry up.” Laura smiled and pushed him out of the kitchen when he chuckled. “It’s already noon and we have plans.”

Isaac paused and looked over his shoulder, a hesitant look crossing his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know you have nothing to do today and you know better than to say no to me.” Laura smiled, but there was no friendliness in it.

Isaac huffed but went to the shower obediently. He idly wondered who would win a battle of wills to the death, Laura Hale or Lydia Martin?

*********************

Laura brought her bike so they rode together through town, Isaac following like he was sixteen again, trying to stay on his bike while she guided him through the woods. Derek had been too impatient and Peter just distracted him so Laura made it her personal mission to teach him how to ride. She said he couldn’t be pack if he couldn’t ride on his own with the wolves and despite what anyone in the pack muttered behind his back, Isaac wasn’t the pack bitch so he couldn’t ride bitch seat on Peter’s bike, no matter how hard Peter pushed it. At the time, Isaac had blushed furiously at her words. He knew he was obvious with his crush on the older man, but Peter had repeatedly rejected him so really there was nothing to talk about.

When they entered the woods, Isaac hesitated but continued to follow her. He trusted Laura and knew she wouldn’t lead him astray. She was the older sister he needed after losing Camden, but he wasn’t disillusioned enough to know her loyalties aligned with Peter first and always would. Peter favored her out of his kin and never felt the need to pretend otherwise, much to Derek and Cora’s irritation.

Laura and Peter were alike in so many ways and Isaac knew she helped him with the dirty work no one talked about so the rest of the family wouldn’t have to. He knew she helped Peter get rid of Kate and Gerard Argent even if the authorities couldn’t prove the Hale pack had been involved in the unfortunate biking accident. The fact that the bodies had been doused in gasoline and set on fire after they had crashed remained off record.

The Hale pack never mentioned the “Argent incident” and it wasn’t until the Hale fire anniversary months later when Peter was drunk on expensive floral scotch and holding Isaac close that he mumbled against his skin, “Fire purifies silver,” in such a satisfied tone. Isaac had tensed, knowing he was talking about the Argents, but was too scared to react so he laid there until Peter fell asleep in a drunken haze of grief and odd satisfaction. When he found the courage to ask Laura about it weeks later, she had looked at him intensely before replying, “Strong wolves don’t hunt alone,” before she kissed his forehead and served him his favored Rocky Road like it was a normal Tuesday afternoon. It was that moment that Isaac truly understood how dangerous his new family could be. He had lived with them for over a year at that point and didn’t know how he could have missed it. He didn’t know at the time that Laura’s words would be the spark that birthed the fire that would send him away months later.

Before he knew it, the Hale house came into view. He followed her on autopilot to the last place he wanted to be, too lost in his thoughts to navigate his surroundings.

“Laura,” he warned when she turned off her bike.

“What? He’s not here if that’s what you’re scared of.” She pulled off her helmet and shook her head, soft waves falling around her shoulders.

“I’m not scared,” he grunted as he tousled his curls with his fingers. It always amazed him how Laura never had helmet hair. He figured she sold her soul to the hair gods long ago.

“Sure, sure. Come on, I want to show you what I’ve been working on.”

Laura led him to the back of the house where a large rectangular building stood. Peter built a large garage there so they could work on their mechanical toys and build new ones. Really, he just wanted the space so he could have a private place to escape because Derek always took over the family library. Laura unlocked the side door and flicked on the fluorescent lights.

The space looked different and yet very much the same. There were two work stations on opposite ends of the garage and it was obvious which one was Laura’s and which was Peter’s. Laura moved to the messier side and pulled back a large cover revealing a 1952 Vincent Series C Black Lightening.

Isaac gasped and practically ran over, his blue eyes wide. “Can I touch it?”

“Of course. She likes to be touched but only gentle caresses. She’s a lady.” Laura winked and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back on a work stool. “Though I’m sure you’ve never had a hard time making something purr.”

“Oh, how I’ve missed that Hale humor.” He rolled his eyes with an annoyed blush. The bike felt smooth against his palm and he could only imagine what it would feel like out on the road between his thighs. “How did you even find one? These are so rare.”

“Uncle Peter. You know he’s more tech savvy than Derek and I put together.”

“That’s hardly a comparison. Derek is like a caveman with technology. I’ve seen toddlers handle an iPad better than him.

Laura’s smoky laugh warmed Isaac like a bonfire on a summer night. He looked around at all the knickknacks and random bike parts strewn about Laura’s work station and held back a grin. “How has Peter not killed you yet for this mess?”

“Because I’m his favorite.” Laura twirled a wrench in her hand with a smug grin. “But I’m sure if mom left me in charge of the wolves instead of him in her will, he would have killed me for Alpha, favorite or not.”

She laughed again, but instead of a comfort, it seized Isaac’s lungs like a smoke-filled room. He knew it used to be a common joke between the family, but it only reminded him of how dangerous a Hale with an agenda could be.

He didn’t dare look at the other side of the garage where he knew Peter’s station would be flawless with its organization, always in control even down to his personal space. Isaac kept his gaze on the vintage bike, focusing on its midnight sheen and trying not to get lost in the memories this space held over him.

Peter always had a pet project he worked on. Isaac became aware of it during his frequent study sessions at the Hale house. His and Cora’s English project finished months ago, but he still found himself here most afternoons while his dad coached the high school swim team. If he showed up at the cemetery on time to help his father, Isaac was usually in the clear. Not always, but the time spent with the Hales was worth the punishment he would receive even if he did nothing with his afternoons.

Sometimes he’d sneak away from Cora and Erica during their “study” sessions when he heard the squeal of a drill or clank of metal on metal coming from the garage. He knew it was Peter because Laura spent most afternoons working at Wolfsbane or making dinner when Peter didn’t. It was one of those afternoons, with Laura busy in the kitchen and his friends occupied with something on the television. He crept away to the garage and lingered in the open doorway, watching Peter tinker away.

“Are you going to stay there all day or join me, pup?” Peter stayed bent over the hood of the car he worked on, but his head turned toward Isaac.

The nickname sent a delicious tingle down Isaac’s spine. Peter never called anyone else that as far as he noticed so Isaac savored how the “p” popped in Peter’s mouth. Isaac latched onto the idea that maybe Peter held a special fondness for him over Cora’s other friends.

“Well?” Peter raised an amused eyebrow.

Isaac scratched the back of his neck and shuffled his feet over to the empty stool closest to where Peter worked without being in his way.

“There’s a good boy,” Peter joked as he ruffled Isaac’s head with his clean hand before working on the car’s engine again. His biceps gleamed with sweat and bulged with his movements. Isaac gulped and shifted in his seat. They often sat quietly like this when Isaac snuck in here because Isaac never initiated conversation and Peter seemed to like the quiet on most days.

“So, your birthday is next week,” Peter mused aloud. Isaac must have stared at him too long in confusion because Peter smirked. “Cora told me.”

Isaac nodded and looked down at his hands, trailing his fingers along his wrists underneath his long sweater. When he looked back up, Peter stared intently where his fingers pressed, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Do you have any plans?”

“Not really. It’s just my sixteenth.” Isaac shrugged.

“Don’t tell Laura that. She’s probably planning a sweet sixteen for you as we speak.”

“God, I hope not.” Isaac chuckled softly and tugged on his sleeves. He looked up to see Peter watching him curiously again. “What?”

“You should smile more. It suits you.”

Isaac blushed and smiled wider as he looked down again. He waited until the sounds of tinkering filled his ears before he dared look up again. He pushed his sweater sleeves up to his elbows so he wouldn’t nervously fiddle with the fabric.

“Laura tells me you want to learn how to ride.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The only time I like to be called sir is in the bedroom.” Peter’s grin widened when Isaac choked out a surprised cough.

“Sorry, Sir. I mean-”

“Don’t go into cardiac arrest, pup. It was a joke.” Peter patted his back until he stopped coughing. Neither commented when Peter’s hand trailed down Isaac’s spine and lingered on his lower back for longer than appropriate before finally pulling away to work on the car again. It had been like this for weeks. Peter teased him verbally and touched him longer than necessary which only fueled Isaac’s hopeless crush on him, but it never went anywhere.

“Maybe I’ll get you a bike for your birthday.” Peter mused, his tone as nonchalant as if he was offering to get Isaac another sweater and not an expensive mode of transportation.

“That’s really not-”

“We’ll have to keep it here of course,” Peter continued as he leaned over the engine, ignoring Isaac’s stammered protests. “I’m sure your father won’t approve, but we can work around that.”

Isaac tensed at the thought of how his father would react if he knew where he had been spending his afternoons and with whom. The Hales were respected as much as they were feared in town, but no parent would encourage their kid to hang around with them. It made Isaac feel panicky when he imagined his father’s face if he found out. Even worse, if his father found out who’d been starring in his sexual fantasies every night. Suddenly the garage felt too small and a little too closed in for his liking. He could almost imagine the air cold as ice and he refused to close his eyes because he feared if he opened them he would be inside the freezer again instead of Peter Hale’s garage.

Tight fingers gripped Isaac’s shoulders, the pain in their press settling him. His heart burst a rapid thump-a-thump and his breath kept catching on a ragged choke as he tried to focus on his surroundings.

“Breath. Just breathe, pup.” A large warm hand settled over Isaac’s heaving chest, pushing against his heart until it slowed down. He was here with Peter. He wasn’t alone, but he still felt so cold. Isaac touched his own cheek and felt heat there, but it wasn’t enough. He chanced a glance up to see Peter’s eyebrows furrowed and Isaac decided he didn’t like the sympathetic concern in Peter’s eyes. He preferred him charming and teasing, brutally playful with his barbs. His look of pity made Isaac want to stop panicking immediately.

“There you are, pup. Got lost for a minute hmm?” Peter smiled gently and trailed his hands up Isaac’s chest until they cupped his cheeks. His thumb stroked the skin softly until Isaac’s heart picked up for a different reason. He just wanted to feel warm again and Peter’s hands seared his skin with his concern.

Isaac’s eyes flickered down and he realized Peter had moved between his legs sometime during his little panic attack. Like this, Peter stood slightly taller than Isaac even though Peter’s dominating presence always made him seem taller than he was. Isaac’s breath caught when he looked up again. Peter felt so warm, his body giving off heat Isaac craved because his bones still felt cold. Peter seemed satisfied and kissed his forehead slowly before he started to pull away. Laura kissed his forehead all the time but this was the first time Peter had done it and it felt nothing like the familial peck she usually gave him. Peter’s lips were warm and left fire on his skin, but now he pulled away, leaving Isaac cold again.

Isaac knew he had to act quickly if he wanted that warmth back. He surged up and wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck before pressing his lips to his. Later, Isaac would blame his own courage on nerves or perhaps stupidity. The kiss had no finesse and Isaac kissed Peter’s chin more than his lips but he quickly resettled, trying to coax a reaction out of Peter’s rigid form. Peter’s hands remained at his sides and he didn’t react, so Isaac pulled back, an apology already forming on his lips.

Peter pressed his finger to Isaac’s trembling lips as he exhaled a slow breath with a smirk. “Was that your first kiss?”

“That bad?” Isaac said, knowing he must look as miserable as he felt.

“It could use some improvement.” Peter chuckled breathlessly. Isaac pulled away, ready to flee from embarrassment, but Peter cupped his neck and wrapped his other arm around his waist securely. He pulled Isaac so close, he almost lost his balance on the stool. “Are you ready for a lesson?”

He didn’t give Isaac time to answer. Peter slotted their lips together, claiming and hungry until Isaac whined low in his throat, feeling warmth seeping into his bones.

“There’s my pup,” Peter growled against his lips before kissing him again, slipping his tongue in and curling it around Isaac’s to suck with a satisfied groan. When Isaac became completely pliant, Peter started to pull away. Isaac’s hands frantically raised to hold Peter’s face and keep their lips pressed together, not wanting to lose that warmth when memories of ice still lingered to haunt him.

“Maybe,” Isaac whispered and licked his lips, refusing to open his eyes in case one look at Peter’s mocking mouth made him lose his courage, “Maybe you can give me something else for my birthday. Something else to ride.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath and wrapped his hands around Isaac’s wrists tightly, pulling them away from his face but not letting go. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m not that young to know if I want someone or not.”

“You’re young enough,” Peter grunted and squeezed Isaac’s wrists until the skin pinched underneath his warm hands.

“Since when are you the honorable Hale?”

Peter barked out a laugh, head raising back. “True, that will never be a word people use to describe me.”

“So, what’s the problem then?” Isaac whispered, losing his newly-found courage. He looked down at his wrists in Peter’s hands, cheeks flooding in shame.

“As surprising as this may sound, getting arrested for pedophilia isn’t on my bucket list this year.”

“But-”

“Stop.” Peter commanded, his grip on Isaac’s wrists tightening until the delicate bones grinded together loudly in the still room.

A soft whine escaped Isaac’s lips and his cheeks flushed deeper in pleasure. Peter’s eyes darted to his hands clutching Isaac’s wrists between them and then to the obvious tightening in the younger boy’s pants. A simmering calculated look crossed Peter’s face and he loosened his hold, Isaac’s pale wrists red from the pressure. Peter raised an eyebrow before he squeezed again, harder this time, and Isaac gasped, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself to the sensation of Peter’s grounding grasp.

Isaac felt hot and his pants kept tightening while he sat there and just took it. This pain was unlike anything he felt before. It made him burn but also feel settled. Maybe it was because it was Peter’s hands doing it and it wasn’t in a fit of uncontrolled rage, but this felt nothing like when his father caused him pain. Peter’s hands were precise and controlled in their movements and so Isaac felt controlled and centered.

Peter squeezed until Isaac feared his wrists might break, but Peter finally released him so Isaac’s blood could rush back to his hands. Bruises would be unavoidable, but Isaac found he liked the thought. His breath rushed out through his lips only to get sucked back in when Peter raised one of his tender wrists to his lips, kissing it with a gentle suck before doing the same to the other.

“You’re very tempting, pup.” He spoke against Isaac’s sensitive wrist before releasing him completely and stepping out of his hold. “I think someone is looking for you.”

Isaac blinked slowly, tiny sparks of hazy light edged around his vision as he came back down from his momentary euphoria. How could one feel tense and loose at the same time? Floating but grounded, like a kite tied to a strong oak.

“Isaac, there you are.” Cora poked her head in. “Stop bothering Uncle Peter. Laura finished dinner for you so you can eat before you have to go to work.”

Right. The cemetery. Graves didn’t dig themselves. Isaac stood up quickly, practically knocking the stool over with his clumsiness. He was grateful most of his excitement could be covered by his longer sweater. He scurried past Peter with his eyes down and tugged on his sleeves until they covered his tender wrists. Holding a shovel tonight might be a little painful but he’d never complain; it was worth it. The look of pure want in Peter’s eyes when he held him was worth it. Cora pulled him out of the garage with a wave to her uncle and hustled him back into the house.

Isaac didn’t see Peter the rest of the week because he went out of town for business. Laura didn’t throw him a sweet sixteen, thank god, but she still made him a dinner with his favorite things and his favorite people, an intimate gathering of Hales and his other friends. Peter came back just in time to give him a bike for his birthday, a shiny new Harley that even Laura was jealous of. Isaac’s protests for it being returned were ignored and he kept quiet once Peter grabbed his wrist, clenching once in warning. Isaac had snapped his mouth shut as memories from the week before flooded his brain, reminding him of faded marks and a bruising kiss.

Isaac would never admit how many times he trailed his fingers along the bruises on his skin during class or before bed. Sometimes he’d even lick along the small purple dots, pretending it was Peter’s mouth there until he climaxed, stroking himself until he was milked clean. Peter didn’t make any advances on him after that one time, but Isaac felt his eyes mark and claim him like he wished his hands would.

Isaac took a deep breath and touched his wrist at the memory, shivering in helpless delight even after all these years. The gleam of blue metal caught his attention and he finally dared to looked over at Peter’s workstation.

“Is that-”

“Yep. It’s still here.” Laura smiled softly as she patted the uncovered bike that matched Isaac’s eyes. It still looked half-finished, like time froze after he left. “He actually just brought it back out of storage. This week in fact. I wonder why…”

Isaac bristled when she side-eyed him. “Laura, please don’t start.”

“I’m just saying, it’s been out of commission since you left.” She shrugged but her green eyes studied him closely. “It was supposed to be your eighteenth birthday present, you know.”

“You’re meddling again,” Isaac huffed out and unwrapped his scarf, feeling stifled.

“I’m not a meddler.”

“You’re a definite meddler.” Isaac tried not to smile. He didn’t want to encourage her. “Worse than a Jewish mother.”

Laura smacked him on the back of the head. He laughed and rubbed his scalp. The familiarity of this interaction exactly what he needed after last night and the insistent memories that seem to want to take over his mind.

“Well, my family isn’t the greatest with feelings and he’ll never tell you how he tore it apart after you left only to start working on it again.”

Isaac set his scarf on the nearest counter and scratched the back of his bare neck with a short sigh. “He smelled like Aberlour’s last night.”

Laura’s head snapped up before she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Fuck.”

“My thoughts exactly. He also invited me to pack dinner tomorrow night.”

“Well yeah, of course he did.” Laura gave him a look that made him feel stupid for acting like it was a strange request. “Despite your attempts at a grand runaway, you’re still a part of the pack. Do you ride with anyone else?” Isaac shook his head. “Well there you go, still pack. Besides, if no one else invited you, you know I would have.”

“You mean you would threaten me until I came.”

“Same thing.” Laura shrugged. “I respected your space when you left because I understood you were angry, which you know respecting boundaries is hard for me, but you know better than to come back to Hale territory and not expect me to smother you.”

“Well, I may have missed your smothering a tiny bit.” Isaac smiled. He was well-practiced in closing himself off and guarding his expression around most people, but Laura always felt safe and how home should feel.

“Come on, then. I’ll make us lunch.” She pushed him out of the garage and into the afternoon sun, warming from the feeling of family and not being alone.

**************

Isaac spent the rest of Thursday night playing video games with Scott and Stiles once they were off work, gorging on junk food and Call of Duty. Scott still worked with Deaton at the veterinary clinic, but now as a fellow veterinarian, and Stiles was still in school for forensic science but since it was summer, he was interning at the Sheriff’s department until the semester picked up again. Hanging out with them like this made Isaac feel like they were in senior year again and it oddly comforted him.

Friday morning came too soon for Isaac’s liking. Lydia appeared at the door at 9 A.M. sharp ready to corral the boys to head down to the tuxedo shop to pick up their tuxes. Isaac had sent in his measurements weeks ago, but he still needed to try it on again in case something was amiss. Lydia wouldn’t have it any other way.

Which was why Isaac found himself dressed in a suit standing in front of a full-length mirror and being ogled at by his so-called “friends.”

“The Charcoal and sky blue combo really works with his complexion,” Lydia nodded her approval.

“Leave it to Isaac to perfectly fill out a suit,” Stiles grumbled, “Do you even work out?”

“It really brings out his ass,” Erica murmured as she walked around him while he stood on a small platform. Isaac tried to pull his suit jacket down to cover said ass, but the tailor gave him a dirty look so he flexed his hands by his side instead and simply stood there.

“Are you done sizing me up? Feel like I’m at a meat market,” Isaac muttered as he looked at them through the mirror. Isaac didn’t know why going to the suit shop became a pack field trip that included the girls. He’d been poked and prodded with pins for the last hour and all he wanted was a stiff drink and maybe a ride through town before he had to deal with pack dinner tonight. The thought of seeing Peter again only made him more irritable.

“I thought I was forbidden to talk about the meat you’re packing.” Erica flicked her hair over her shoulder with a downright devilish smile.

“Oh, oh ew,” Stiles scrunched up his face and threw his hands up before he exited the fitting room, Scott on his heels.

“Well that’s one way to get rid of them,” Erica laughed and tapped Isaac’s butt lightly, ignoring the tailor’s huff of exasperation, before she too followed them out.

“Will the alterations be done by Sunday?” Lydia looked at the tailor, an older woman with a stern face but a sweet smile with a gray hair tied up in a messy bun.

“I can have them done tomorrow afternoon as promised.” She nodded, speaking around the pins in her mouth. “The Hales already paid me generously.”

Lydia seemed satisfied but Isaac raised an eyebrow.

“The Hales are paying for this?” He gestured to his suit.

“They’re paying for quite a bit of the wedding. Of course, Mr. Argent helped too, but you know how Laura is with weddings.”

“You mean, how Derek is with weddings,” Isaac shot back with a dry laugh.

“How am I with weddings?”

Isaac’s eyes widened when he looked up in the mirror and saw Derek and Peter standing behind him, both dressed in tuxes. He tried to turn his head back to look at them, but the tailor poked his thigh warningly with a pin that made him hiss.

“Everyone knows you’re the romantic in the family, nephew.” Peter patted his back before entering the room fully, ignoring both Lydia’s glare for his mere presence and Derek’s glare for outing him as the Hale softie. He stepped up behind Isaac on the platform, which the tailor seemed perfectly fine with knowing Isaac’s luck, and he gently ran his hand down the side of Isaac’s pant leg as if testing the feel of the fabric. Even though his touch was light, Isaac felt it like he was pressing into his skin firmly. “This color suits you. Good job as always, Lydia.”

“Your appointment isn’t until 11 A.M.” Lydia crossed her arms and tapped her foot. The fact that she made sure of that wasn’t said out loud, but it was obvious in her tone.

“Nothing wrong with being a little early, right? I thought you’d like that.” Peter gave her a charming smile before turning back to Isaac.

“An hour early is a little excessive, isn’t it?”

“Fine, you caught me.” Peter put his hands up in surrender, leaving Isaac’s thigh burning underneath his pants just from a whisper of Peter’s touch. “I wanted to see Isaac here, all dressed up. Reminds me of prom.”

Isaac swallowed and closed his eyes, ignoring Lydia and Derek’s sounds of warning behind him. He remembered prom. He remembered going and dancing with his friends for an hour or so before sneaking back to the Hale house and dancing with Peter in the living room. He remembered how quickly that expensive tuxedo fell to the ground and how swiftly possessive hands took its place. Isaac flushed at the memory.

“Seems Isaac here remembers it too.” Peter smirked as he stared at Isaac in the mirror, neither willing to turn and look each other in the eye.

“Peter, stop distracting them,” Derek said from the doorway, looking less than amused. At least his dour glare focused on Peter and not Isaac this time.

“I’m not distracting anyone am I, dear Cynthia?” Peter gazed down at the tailor with his pearly whites glistening. The older woman blushed and shook her head as she continued to work and Isaac tried not to roll his eyes. He looked back up to see Peter watching him again in the mirror with a raised eyebrow, silently challenging Isaac to admit Peter’s presence unnerved him. Maybe four years ago, he would submit it to, but he refused to make it easy this time around.

Isaac smirked and raised his own eyebrow. He licked his lips and bit on the lower one, dragging his teeth along it until it reddened in the way he knew used to drive Peter wild. By the dark glaze that came over Peter’s eyes it seemed to still do the trick.

“I don’t get paid enough to watch this,” Lydia announced before swiftly exiting, but not before shouting, “Make good choices!”

Isaac tried not to choke on a laugh, especially seeing Peter’s amused eyeroll.

“She really hasn’t changed, has she?” Peter mused.

Isaac shook his head, with a soft smile. “I think New York made her worse.”

“And you? Did Washington change you?”

Isaac did choke this time, coughing to clear his throat. “How did you-”

“Please,” Peter held up a hand, “I know I taught you how not to be found, but it wasn’t difficult tracking you down. Between Danny and myself, we figured it out well before Scott finally decided to tell us.”

Isaac’s eyebrows furrowed and he felt his body start to heat up, prickling with his unease. “And you never came?”

“Did you want me to?” Peter lifted his eyebrows in surprised curiosity. “You made it pretty clear in your letter you never wanted to see me again and if I followed you, you’d involve the authorities. Pretty clear statement there.”

Isaac bit his lip again, but this time it wasn’t to seduce. He remembered the letter he wrote and how angry he had been when he filled those pages with threats and feelings he wished he never knew. But he never expected Peter to respect his wishes. He hadn’t before. He just assumed Peter realized he wasn’t worth the trouble to come after and so didn’t bother. Isaac couldn’t forget the words Peter told him a week before he left and he played them on repeat in his mind every time he wanted to come back to Beacon Hills.

Some of his thoughts must have shown clearly on his face, because Peter exhaled a long breath and ran his hands through his hair. “I see.”

Isaac shook his head, suddenly feeling dizzy. Peter didn’t see, he couldn’t see. This wasn’t some game, this was his life and he hated how much he secretly wanted Peter to come for him but at the same time he wasn’t joking when he had said he never wanted to see Peter again.

His chest heaved out short breaths and his vision started closing in. Dammit. He hadn’t had a panic attack in a while and in the back of his mind he was cursing himself for having one now with Peter Hale in the room. Forcing himself to not feel weak only made him dizzier and he stumbled forward on the dais he was standing on, close to losing his balance. He heard a shout and he wasn’t sure if it was from the tailor or Peter, but soon strong arms were wrapped around him and he was sitting in a chair with his head between his legs. A warm hand rubbed his back and Isaac focused on the movement until his heart calmed its erratic beating.

“There you go, pup. Keep breathing.”

Isaac squeezed his eyes shut against the shame building up in his throat. His voice sounded raspy. “I’m not weak.”

“No one is calling you weak.”

“I don’t need you,” Isaac’s whispered words died on his tongue, because even he heard the lie. True, he survived without Peter for four years but there was still a part of him that needed Peter whether he would ever have him again or not.

“Shh, pup. Just keep breathing.” Peter squeezed the back of his neck with a steady, gentle pressure until Isaac let out a shuddered exhale of relief.

Derek thrust a cup of water towards Isaac’s face when he sat up and he took it gratefully. He forgot Derek was here too. He took a slow sip. “Thanks.”

Derek nodded his head with a small frown, but Isaac recognized it as his concerned frown and not his annoyed scowl. Peter’s hand still trailed down Isaac’s back and he wanted to shrug off his touch but he enjoyed the warmth his touch spread. Peter’s touch always promised warmth.

He noticed the third body in the room and blinked. Cynthia stood there, looking worried and unsure with her pins in hand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I must be ruining all your hard work.” Isaac tried to stand up but Peter pulled him back down.

“It’ll be fine. Won’t it, Cynthia.” Peter’s voice held a warm command rather than a question.

“I was finished anyway.” Cynthia nodded. “You’re pinned pretty well so I’m not too worried, dear.”

“Good. Let’s get you out of these clothes then, hmm?” Peter murmured near his ear and even though it wasn’t purposefully seductively, Isaac flushed because it was the same words he used that night after prom when they were alone.

Isaac shivered at the memory but forced himself to stand up and away from Peter’s touch. “I don’t need help.”

He stepped forward but Peter’s hand grasped his, holding on tightly. Isaac looked down at their hands clasped together before glancing at Peter, expecting to see anger or the normal possessiveness his blue-green eyes favored, but all he saw was genuine concern which unsettled Isaac even more.

“I’ll be fine. Besides you have an appointment, right?” Isaac looked away and squeezed Peter’s hand once before letting go. He shouldered past Derek and headed to the fitting rooms, willing his heart to stop acting like the Energizer Bunny on crack.

Footsteps followed him but he waited until he behind the curtain of his dressing room to turn around, ready to tell Peter to leave him alone. His eyes widened when he saw Derek instead.

“Are you really okay?” Derek started to cross his arms over his chest but stopped and instead put his hands in his trouser pockets. Isaac’s eyes darted behind him to the closed curtain, but Derek shook his head. Peter hadn’t followed them.

“Just peachy.” Isaac pulled off his jacket carefully and hung it up on the empty hanger before he started working on the dress shirt. He never felt embarrassed being naked in front of Derek because there had never been anything besides brotherly love between them. Derek only had eyes for Stiles since he found him stranded on the highway that fateful day in junior year and he never looked back, much to the amusement of the pack.

Isaac set the dress shirt on another hanger before he worked on his pants, careful to slip his leg out without ruining the pinning. Derek’s warm hand on his shoulder startled him enough that he almost lost his balance.

“I know,” Derek started, closing his eyes with a sigh and a squeeze to Isaac’s shoulder, before starting again, “I know you and I aren’t the best at expressing our feelings-”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

Derek squeezed his shoulder again in warning for his silence. “And I still haven’t forgiven you for leaving and only telling _Scott_ of all people, but I don’t hate you. You fucked over my family in so many ways when you left, but I know we’re not innocent either. We still love you. I just need you to know that.”

Isaac blinked, still bent over with one leg out and one leg in his pants. “Uh, I’m really glad we’re doing this, but can I get dressed first? Feeling a little vulnerable all naked over here during our heart to heart.”

Derek looked down and seemed to notice Isaac’s predicament. He gently punched Isaac’s bare shoulder with a smile and trying not to laugh, which only made Isaac laugh out loud.

“God, we’re such idiots.” Isaac shook his head as he finished undressing and hanging up his pants before quickly throwing his normal clothes on.

“Don’t let Laura hear you say that. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Yes, she’s already far too smug about me coming to pack dinner tonight.” Isaac stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I swear, she’s one plot away from tying me down and keeping me in Beacon Hills forever against my will.”

“About that…”

“Pack dinner or Laura holding me hostage?”

“Dinner,” Derek said carefully. He peeked through the curtain behind him before turning back around, seeming satisfied with their privacy. “I don’t like you and Peter around each other.”

“You never liked it.” Isaac pointed out dryly.

“I still don’t understand it,” Derek clarified. “I just chalked it up to teenage hormones and hero worship but it seems four years hasn’t changed anything between you two.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” At Derek’s unimpressed look, Isaac continued. “If this is about the age difference, you really have no room to talk.” Isaac crossed his arms over his chest. They had argued about this constantly when he was high school, Derek always uncomfortable with the extensive age gap. “You and Stiles are like six years apart.”

“Not exactly the same thing, Isaac.” Derek gave him his judging eyebrow raise, which made Isaac feel like a chastised seventeen-year-old all over again. “Just be careful. I know neither of you will listen to what’s good for you, but I hope you being away taught you some self-preservation. Memories need to stay memories.”

Isaac gathered up the clothes and faced Derek with a forced calm expression. “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s not like I’m in love with him anymore or anything.” He shouldered past Derek. “There’s nothing between us worth revisiting.”

He pulled the curtain back to exit the small fitting room and dropped his suit when he saw Peter’s intense face on the other side waiting for him.

 

 

 

 


	3. These Games We Play Have No Rules, Do They?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack Dinner and temptation, temptation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not abandoned! I am so sorry! I blame Riverdale and the loveliness that is Joaquin/Kevin. But no excuses! Here's the next chapter (extra long) and with it, I hope, your forgiveness. Your comments encouraged me to continue, not gonna lie! :)
> 
> Music:  
> Not Gonna Let You Walk Away - LOLO  
> Drumming - Florence and the Machine  
> Milk and Honey - Billie Marten

“God, I’m such an idiot.” Isaac sighed and slumped further into the couch, running his hands over his face.

“I’ve been telling you that for years.” Stiles said behind him at the kitchen counter before hissing in pain.

Isaac peeked through his hands in time to see Scott retract his arm from punching Stiles’ shoulder. He tried not to smile at them. “I’m not going to pack dinner.”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Stiles hopped over the back of the couch, practically braining himself on the coffee table before Isaac reached out and snatched the back of his shirt, pulling him beside him. Stiles settled into the cushions comfortably, acting as if he didn’t just almost give himself a concussion. “You’re not leaving me at the mercy of angry Hales, Isaac. If you don’t go, they’ll take it out on me. Laura and Creeper Wolf will be insufferable and I will not deal with it.”

“You are their favorite one to torture,” Scott pointed out with a sweet smile.

“They’re just jealous of this hotness.” Stiles wiggled a little and ran his hands down his chest with dancing eyebrows.

“Remind me again why Derek finds you attractive?” Isaac raised his own eyebrow, face blank.

“He just has good taste. I don’t expect you to understand.”

“I bet he was dropped too many times as a baby.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that.” Stiles licked his lips, fingers tapping on his leg. “Also, it doesn’t change the fact that my Hale is hotter than yours.”

“Seriously?” Isaac choked on a laugh.

“Guys, come on,” Scott placated with a sigh, trying to keep his face stern but failing. “Both of you are going. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, Isaac.”

“Are you kidding?” Stiles laughed, eyes bright and lethal. “Isaac basically said he had no feelings for the creeper wolf right in front of him. And that was after Peter helped him through a panic attack.”

“It wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t know he was-”

“And then you ran off with your tail between your legs so you wouldn’t have to talk to him.” Stiles finished with a shit-eating grin.

“Not helping Stiles,” Scott muttered, but it was drowned out by Stiles’ squawk as Isaac tackled him on the couch, tickling and soft punching Stiles until he cried for mercy.

“Take it back,” Isaac said, pinning Stiles on the couch, his face pressed into the cushions.

“You being a chicken shit or that I’m dating the hotter Hale?” Stiles turned his head to muffle out, his words slurred from being smashed into the cushion.

“God, you’re the worst.” Isaac pushed Stiles’ head further into the couch before finally releasing him and standing up. “I’m going to get ready.”

“That’s the spirit,” Scott said with a warm smile, looking very much like the puppy they teased him about being.

*********************

The Hale house acted as a gentle beacon in the dark woods, casually lit like a forgotten candle. Isaac didn’t drag his feet and refused to pout in the car because he was almost twenty-two for god’s sake. He did, however, force himself to take deep breaths the closer they came to the Hale property. Luckily, Stiles seemed to tone down his assholery and didn’t comment. Isaac made a mental note to thank Scott later.

“I still can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow.” Stiles said from the passenger seat, his fingers tapping against the window in an uncoordinated rhythm.

“Watch it, you’re next. I already told Allison to throw the bouquet at you.” Scott said with a cheeky grin that bordered on sweet. Everything about Scott would always be sweet, Isaac thought. Again, he wished he could have fallen for him instead of Peter, even if it would have been unrequited, it would have been less dramatic than what he was dealing with now.

Stiles smacked Scott’s arm with a squawk. “Don’t you dare give Derek any ideas. I have a life plan and I’m sticking to it.”

“You realize Derek has been courting you since you two started dating, right?” Scott asked. His face was a mixture between amused and perplexed in the rearview mirror as he drove.

“I’m pretty sure Derek has been courting Stiles since he saw him stranded on the side of the road at the end of junior year,” Isaac cut in with a smirk. He pressed himself further into the backseat of the car, ready for the swat Stiles tried to aim at him from behind.

“I can’t help it my hotness stops men on the road.” Stiles licked his lips as he looked out the passenger window. “Besides, Derek isn’t courting me. We’re dating. Modern dating. None of this gentlemanly old-fashioned bullshit.”

“Is that why he refuses to let you live with him? Because he’s so modern? It has nothing to do with the fact you guys aren’t married yet?” Isaac asked, unable to avoid being smacked this time from Stiles’ flailing hands. “Have you guys even had sex yet?”

“Scott, you told him about our living situation?!” Stiles turned to face Scott with an angry expression.

“No, but you just did.” Isaac smirked. “So the sex thing… is he withholding until your wedding night?”

“Shut up. You know I’m having sex.” Stiles whipped his head around to glare at Isaac. “In fact, our sex life is thriving. We’re as active as a hungry hummingbird. We just don’t live together because I still want some independence.”

Scott snorted in disbelief, but Isaac wrinkled his nose in distaste and said, “A hungry hummingbird? Really, Stiles?”

“Not my brightest moment, I’ll admit.” Stiles waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, look, we’re here.”

Scott’s car pulled up to the driveway of the Hale house, parking next to the long line of cars and bikes. Some people hung around the front porch, drinking beers and laughing. When Stiles opened the car door, the smell of firewood burning filled Isaac’s nose. Around the side of the house, he could see a large bonfire flickering away and remembered many nights sitting around it with Laura and Peter. He always assumed they wouldn’t want anything to do with fire after the Hale accident, but they always seemed more relaxed drinking around that bonfire than they did doing anything else. Isaac learned not to question it.

“Come on, Juliet. Romeo awaits.” Stiles stuck his head back in the car, grin in place. His eyes, however, had a serious gleam to them and Isaac knew that if he needed saving tonight, Stiles would be the first one there ready to protect him.

Ignoring the fond warmth in his chest, Isaac rolled his eyes and pushed his way out of the car. “Come on, you idiot. Let’s find your dearly betrothed.”

Stiles smacked his arm again before rushing toward the house in a fit of gangly limbs he still hadn’t grown into. Isaac shook his head and followed more slowly. Most of the people in front of the house Isaac hardly recognized. They were young, most likely around his age, and Isaac assumed they were probably promising recruits looking to prove their loyalty. Isaac wondered if Peter opened his ranks more easily nowadays or if this wide-range hospitality for Pack Dinner was simply because of Scott’s wedding tomorrow.

“Isaac!” Laura called from the living room when he entered with Stiles and Scott.

Most of the commotion in the house settled quietly and Isaac wanted to turn back out the door as multiple eyes watched him curiously. Laura pushed her way through the small crowd and pulled Isaac into a hug, her cold bottle of beer pressing against his neck and making him shiver.

“Did you really have to make a scene?” Isaac complained as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist.

“They were going to stare anyway.” Laura pulled back and took a swig of her beer before handing it off to Isaac. “Here, finish this. Besides at least now I can give my uncle time to hide.” Her grin was sharp.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be the one hiding.” Isaac knocked back the rest of the beer, grateful for its coolness as it slid down his dry throat. “Did he tell you anything about today?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Laura pulled the empty bottle away from his hands and handed it off to one of the young recruits to dispose of it. “Derek told me all about the tux fiasco, but you’re here now for Pack Dinner so all drama from earlier is excused. Come on.”

“It was hardly a fiasco…” Isaac muttered under his breath, but he followed as she dragged him away from the front hall. He looked back over his shoulder, but Scott had already disappeared and Stiles was currently straddling Derek on the couch and making out with him, ignoring the hoots and whistles. When Stiles pulled back slightly to look at Isaac smugly, Isaac couldn’t help but laugh when he saw Derek’s dazed expression. Stiles mouthed “not courting” before diving back in to kiss his boyfriend. Isaac rolled his eyes.

Laura pulled him into the kitchen and let his hand go to grab another beer from the fridge. Isaac stood in the doorframe and paused. Peter bustled about the kitchen by himself, prepping vegetables with the smooth precision of his knife. When he turned around to grab another zucchini off the counter, he stopped and stared at Isaac. Peter wore a silky peach apron tied over his shirt and tight jeans that made Isaac gulp and then narrow his eyes. The apron had been a gag gift Isaac had purchased for him one Christmas, more like lingerie than anything useful. In fact, the only times it had ever been used was when Peter would make Isaac wear it with nothing else, keeping it on while Peter fucked him over the dining room table. Peter twirled his chef’s knife with a satisfied smirk and Isaac narrowed his eyes further. So, this was the game Peter wanted to play.

“Nice apron.” Isaac said, forcing his voice to stay disinterested and not choking on his words. “Color suits you.”

“I’ve been told.” Peter’s smirked widened into a devilish smile as he leaned over the island counter on his elbows. His blue green eyes as sharp as the knife he set down beside him. “However, I think this style might suit you more. I bet it really brings out your cheeks when you’re flushed.”

Isaac’s cheeks blushed as if on command but he refused to avert his gaze. He had already cowered away once today and he would be damned if he did it again. He wasn’t the same teenager who left Beacon Hills and he was sick of feeling like he was.

The fridge door slammed shut, making both men jump. Laura leaned against it and popped off two beer bottle tops with her keys, looking between them with an unimpressed eyebrow. “As adorable as your attempts at flirting are, uncle, don’t you have a dinner to finish up?”

Peter huffed in annoyance, but he picked up his knife and zucchini and turned back around to resume his chopping. “Usually I have a lovely niece to help me, but I see she’s intending on getting drunk instead.” He grunted, his chopping growing louder. “And where is Derek? Isn’t he supposed to be barbecuing?”

“Last I saw, Stiles was keeping him occupied on the couch,” Isaac muttered but it must have been loud enough because Peter grunted again.

“At least someone is enjoying themselves.”

Laura handed off the second beer to Isaac before looking at Peter with a sardonic laugh. “Stop sulking uncle, it ages you.”

Peter took a slice of zucchini and threw it at Laura. She ducked but it still hit her. “Real mature.”

“My best quality.” Peter sniffed as he took another slice and popped it into his mouth with a grin.

Laura grinned back and Isaac felt his lips lift slightly. Once Peter glanced at him, he looked away and took a sip of his beer. He hated how much he missed the Hales. How easy they loved each other no matter what and how loyal they were to one another. His beer tasted sour in his mouth when he thought of how deep their loyalty went. He needed to get out of this kitchen before he thought too much about it. Yes, the Hales were loyal, but Isaac found out the hard way that they weren’t always trustworthy.

“I’ll grab Derek.” Laura announced and left the kitchen with a flick of her long dark hair. Isaac didn’t miss the sly wink she sent him over her shoulder. He was going to kill her later.

“I’m just gonna…” Isaac picked at the label of his beer and tried not to look at Peter again. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go and-”

Peter immediately furrowed his eyebrows. “You could stay and help me. It could be like old times…”

He chugged the rest of his beer in the awkward silence, aware of Peter watching him. When he finished, he wiped the back of his hand along his lips and set the empty bottle on the counter. “I really can’t.”

“You still have no idea of how tempting you can be, do you?”

“Peter-”

“I’ll stop.” Peter put his hands up in defense and gave his charming-little-old-ladies smile. “But I really could use the help and you owe me for your little stunt earlier at the tux shop.”

Isaac swallowed and flexed his fists. “About that-”

“It’s fine. I won’t bring it up again.” Peter cut him off, his smile faltering a bit. “Just come over and put these vegetables in a bowl so Derek can grill them.”

He wanted to leave. Everything in him was begging him to walk out the door. To walk out of this house and all the memories it held, but he told himself he wasn’t going to be a coward. It had been four years. He had a new life in Washington that he was fond of most days and even if being in Beacon Hills for less than a week managed to throw him for a loop, he could handle this. He could handle Peter Hale. Hopefully.

Isaac silently stepped around the island and moved next to Peter. When he was handed a bowl, Isaac filled it with sliced vegetables. He took the Olive Oil and drizzled it over them before snatching up the dried herbs. He could feel Peter watch him as he sprinkled the herbs delicately.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Isaac murmured quietly as he tossed the vegetables to mix them.

“That I’m so predictable I wouldn’t change how I prep my veggies?”

Isaac almost dropped the bowl and stared at Peter next to him, eyes wide. “Oh God, did I just assume? Did you have something else in mind? Shit, I’m sorry.”

Peter wrapped his hand around one of Isaac’s wrists, pressing his thumb into the pulse point. “It’s fine, pup. It was just a joke. You prepped them just as I would have liked. You always do so well.”

Isaac let out a shaky breath at the praise, but the pressure of Peter’s thumb grounded him. Instantly, shame flooded him and he stared down at the bowl. “Why does this keep happening? This isn’t me anymore. I’m not a mess.” He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling, blinking furiously. Shit, if he started crying right now he was heading home. Screw the wedding. “But I keep fucking up around you.”

Peter’s thumb pressed in a little more until the soft creak of Isaac’s wrist bones rubbed together. “I’m sure you’ve been highly capable these past four years.”

“I have been.” Isaac jerked his hand away from Peter’s grasp and took a step back. “You’re fucking with me on purpose, I know it. This is some type of revenge for me leaving, isn’t it? You’re probably getting your kicks off to all this. I mean, you wore that fucking apron like a goddamned tease-”

“Isaac, calm down-” Peter stepped forward, but Isaac took another step back.

“You’re so fucking manipulative. You keep bringing up the past like you have the right to and it’s not fair-”

“Pup, please-”

“No!” Isaac threw off Peter’s hands with a shout. He crossed his arms over his waist, but refrained from bending over despite his sudden dizziness. “Don’t touch me. You lost the right to touch me when you started keeping things from me.”

Peter tucked his hands behind his back and tilted his head, watching as Isaac heaved for breath. The air between them sparked as they stared at each other, but Isaac couldn’t tell if it was lust or love or hate anymore. He was so confused. His skin vibrated from the adrenaline of raising his voice and he felt sick with it. Yelling always exhausted him and made him feel guilty.

“I trusted you.” Isaac hissed out, his eyes blurring and oh god, he was crying. “We were supposed to be equals, you said. I should have known that was a fucking lie-”

“Boys!” Laura rushed into the kitchen, eyes blazing and mouth set in a thin line.

Isaac looked over his shoulder, surprised to see they had developed a small audience. Derek stood behind Laura with a disapproving look in his eyes. Stiles leaned against him, his face a mix of worry and amusement that Isaac wanted to punch off his face. Aiden and a couple other wolves he didn’t recognize had come in from the back door, probably thinking a fight was breaking out. Isaac’s face immediately flushed.

“Sorry.” Isaac shook his head and pushed his way past Laura and Derek, shaking off their hands. He stalked back to the living room where a couple curious glances greeted him, Erica and Boyd among them. They probably heard the yelling but not the words. Erica moved to stand up from Boyd’s lap when she looked at Isaac’s face, but Isaac shook his head once. He knew she’d understand he wanted to be left alone. Apparently, Stiles didn’t though.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?!” Stiles hissed behind him.

“Not now, Stilinski.” Isaac rolled his eyes and stuffed his hands in his jean pockets so he wouldn’t punch him.

“Back to last names, I see-”

“Stiles, stop.” Laura came up behind them with a frown and now Isaac really wanted to punch something. This was why he didn’t want to come back to Beacon Hills. There was never any fucking privacy.

A strong but small hand gripped Isaac’s upper arm and he let himself be led up the stairs until prying eyes couldn’t see them anymore. Laura dragged him down the hall and threw open what Isaac remembered as her bedroom door. The room itself looked familiar with her multiple posters of bikes plastered on the walls like a teenage fanatic mixed with an odd collection of surrealist art.

“Sit down.” Laura commanded as she shut her door with a dreadful click.

Isaac sighed and collapsed onto her bed, laying back so he could stare up at the bare ceiling. Laura’s scent from her comforter surrounded him, a gentle blend of warm woods and vanilla that reminded him of many sleepless nights once he moved into the Hale house after his father died. Nights when his terrorizing memories would turn into nightmares and he just needed someone warm next to him when Peter was away on business.

“You know,” Laura began, her voice laced with amusement, “I thought the time apart would have done you both some good but I see it only made things worse.”

“I’m fine.” Isaac set his jaw stubbornly.

“Says the normally level-headed boy who just lost it down there? I can usually count on you to be the rational one.” Laura tossed a box of tissues onto the bed. Isaac refused to touch them on principle. Laura sighed. “If I had known it was this bad, I would have locked you both in a room hours before dinner to have it out.”

“I’m fine, Laura.” Isaac insisted. He slowly sat up and ran his hands through his tight curls before clenching his scalp. “I thought I was over this. Over him…”

“I could have told you, you weren’t over him-”

“I went to therapy for this.” Isaac finally looked up. His eyes were wet but he tucked his hands under his thighs instead of wiping them. “I still go to therapy, for everything. I should be able to handle all this. I’m firing her when I get back.”

“I’m sorry, sugar, but coming from someone who’s been in therapy, not everything goes away just because you talk about your feelings.” Laura moved across the room and sat next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and tugging him to rest against her side. “You and Peter have always had a somewhat volatile relationship.” Isaac opened his mouth but Laura held up her hand and continued speaking. “I’m not saying it was bad. You guys suck at communication, but I actually think you both were good for each other. It’s just, you up and left without telling any of us and none of us know why. You didn’t see what Peter turned into when you left…” She took a deep breath. “And even if you’ve given each other plenty of time to get over it, you and Peter didn’t have a clean break. I think instead of allowing yourself to get over him, you simply pinned him on a wall to be revisited later. You have no closure.”

Isaac let out a shuddering breath that sounded more like a chuckle as he rested his head on her bony shoulder. “Did you change your opinion on institutions and get a psych degree while I was away?”

Laura snorted a laugh and kissed the top of his head. “Nah, I just stole Stiles’ textbooks for light reading when he was doing his general ed.”

“Light reading.” Isaac rolled his eyes. “You’re precious.”

Laura pushed him away playfully. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“No one can make you blush.”

“It’s true. The day someone can, I’ll propose right then and there.”

Isaac shook his head, grinning in a way only few people could make him. He reached behind her and plucked a tissue before discreetly wiping his eyes quickly. “On a scale from one to ten, how much did I ruin Pack Dinner?”

Laura tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, our dinners have been pretty boring lately and to be honest, people were betting on more drama so that was pretty tame. A four, possibly. If there was a stabbing or an intense make out session, I could up the rating to a seven.”

Isaac groaned and stood up. “How am I supposed to go down there and just have dinner with him? We can’t be in the same room without wanting to rip each other’s heads off.”

“More like rip each other’s clothes off.”

“Not helping."

“Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Isaac said with a reluctant smirk.

“You’re right, I’m not.” Laura stood up, too, and adjusted her shirt which had ridden up. “Look, I’m trying to be a neutral party about this, but you guys really need to talk. Whether you want to or not, I think it’ll be good for you. There’s obviously things you’re holding back.” She headed toward her bedroom and pulled the door open. “Just do it after dinner okay?”

Isaac gave a reluctant nod. He had no intention of talking to Peter, but he learned long ago it was best to just give Laura what she wanted. Even if was just an impression of it.

*********************

Dinner went as smoothly as expected. He received minimal looks of concern when he came back down from Laura’s room and instead of sitting on Peter’s side of the table with the Hales, he chose to sit next to Erica and Boyd somewhere in the middle, listening to what they’ve been up to the past four years without him. It was nice. The food tasted delicious and as per tradition, each place setting had a shot glass promised to be filled with vodka whenever a toast was made. Isaac remembered most Pack Dinners usually only had an opening toast to bless the meal, but because it was the night before Scott’s wedding, it seemed most members at the table had something they wanted to celebrate and toast to the groom. By the end of the meal, Isaac felt pleasantly warm in the way vodka and good conversation always seemed to make him.

The group of new members Isaac noticed in front of the house earlier cleaned up the dishes while everyone else moved to the backyard. Before Isaac could follow, Laura grabbed his arm and directed him to the kitchens.

“Come with me. We need to refill the ice chests.”

Isaac nodded slowly and carefully stacked two empty ice chests in his arms before following Laura to the back of the house where a large room greeted them. There were two fridges, a massive couch and television set with game consoles and a pool table. Despite his pleasant buzz, Isaac swallowed in dread.

“The game room looks the same.” Isaac said quietly.

“Hmm? Oh yeah, we added a dart board over there and got a larger T.V. but everything else is pretty much the same.” Laura opened the freezer and pulled out two ice bags. She filled the chests quickly.

Isaac looked back at the pool table. “Is that the same pool table?”

Laura opened the fridge and pulled out bottles of beer and cider, looking over her shoulder impatiently. “Yup. Peter refuses to get rid of it. I purchased a new one last year, but he threw a right fit over it so I gave it to Wolfsbane instead.”

Isaac absently nodded his head, but his eyes remained on the pool table with the red carpeting and black leather nets. He knew why Peter kept it. It probably filled him with the same heat it had always filled Isaac with whenever he looked at it. After that afternoon back in junior year, he couldn’t look at the table without flushing.

It had been weeks after his sixteenth birthday, early November, when Isaac finally had enough of Peter’s evasiveness. Ever since their shared kiss in the garage and the bruises on his wrists, Isaac couldn’t forget Peter’s hands or his lips. He loved the motorcycle Peter gifted him, but he really itched to ride something else. Except Peter wasn’t giving in. Isaac spent many afternoons at the Hales “studying” in hope of getting Peter alone again, but the older man seemed to be aware of his plots because any time Isaac found him, Peter came up with an excuse to leave the room. It became so obvious, Laura pulled Isaac aside one day and asked if he did something to offend her uncle.

“Not that I know of,” Isaac said sheepishly and looked down at his fingers.

“Okay,” Laura said slowly. “I’m sure whatever happened was a misunderstanding. Go to the game room.”

“What? Why?” Isaac looked up, eyes wide with panic. Nothing good ever came when Laura began ordering him around.

“Because” Laura started, arms crossed over her chest, “I have to take Cora to her MMA class and you need to sort out whatever this is with Peter.”

“No, Laura, it’s really-”

“Does it look like I’m asking?”

Isaac silently shook his head. Laura always had this odd effect on Isaac, a mix of fondness and terrifying admiration. He sulked off to the game room. It was large and quiet when it wasn’t filled with pack members for a game on the T.V. or a pack dinner. Isaac leaned back on the pool table, hands pressed on the edges of it by his sides, and chewed his lower lip in worry. He really hoped Peter wouldn’t be upset. When he heard the familiar footsteps of combat boots, he immediately tensed and looked up.

“I swear, I didn’t put her up to this.” Isaac rushed out, his eyes pleading as they watched Peter slowly enter the room.

Peter sighed and rubbed his face with his hands as he stepped closer to Isaac. “I know, pup. No one can make Laura do something she doesn’t want to.”

Isaac instantly deflated with relief at the nickname and looked down at his own shoes. He continued to grip the edge of the pool table for fear his knees would buckle. Just being close to Peter again made him shiver in anticipation. His wrists tingled with phantom pain, hoping to be grasped again.

“Don’t think I’m not aware of what you’ve been trying to do.” Peter’s gravelly voice sounded tired but amused.

“So, you have been avoiding me then?” Isaac chewed his lower lip and looked up through his lashes. Peter stood in front of him now, his white ribbed tank tight against his chest and a smudge of grease swiped along his collarbone. Isaac’s eyes tracked a drop of sweat as it dipped into Peter’s shirt and swallowed a moan. His pants were already feeling tight.

“We can’t do this.” Peter raised an eyebrow, his face blank.

“Do what?”

“Stupid doesn’t look good on you, pet.” Peter admonished and closed the space between them with a deep sigh.

“I’m consenting…” Isaac trailed off with a frown. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Peter growled. He slipped his hands under Isaac’s thighs and lifted him up so he sat on the pool table. With another throaty growl, he leaned in and nipped Isaac’s neck once in warning before pulling back to look at him. “You’re just too young.”

“I’m old enough to know what I want.” Isaac gasped out. His skin felt flushed and his neck burned from where Peter’s scruff dragged along it. He wrapped his legs around Peter to hold him in place and lifted his hips up slowly, hoping he looked as alluring as the guy he saw do this in a porn he watched for tips. By Peter’s sharp intake of breath, he seemed to be doing alright.

“And what do you want?” Peter grabbed Isaac’s hips and held him still, his jaw clenched.

“You,” Isaac whined out, his hips struggling against Peter’s strong hold. Peter’s smell of grease and smoke made him throb harder and all he wanted was to be closer. He wanted to lose himself in Peter.

Peter chuckled, a dark, raspy sound and slipped his hands around to grab Isaac’s ass and drag him until they pressed together completely. Isaac gasped softly at the feel of Peter’s obvious arousal as it pressed against his own. He seemed just as turned on as Isaac.

“I don’t think you can handle what I want, pup.”

“I can.” Isaac nodded quickly. “I definitely can.”

“You’re so desperate for it,” Peter marveled as he squeezed Isaac’s ass again, making the younger boy moan shamelessly. “I bet I could get you off just by telling you what I want to do to you.”

Isaac moaned again and tilted his head back. “I’ll be so good for you. Please.”

“I know you will.” Peter growled and licked a stripe up the center of Isaac’s throat before pulling back again. “This is still a bad idea, you know.”

“I won’t tell.” Isaac shook his head, his chest heaving for breath. He rocked his hips again and looked at Peter’s face. Peter hardly touched him and he already felt fucked out. His cock pressed against his tight jeans insistently. “I need you. Please don’t deny me.”

Peter huffed out a harsh breath and narrowed his eyes as he inspected Isaac’s face. He seemed satisfied by what he saw because he leaned in and kissed Isaac. His tongue slipped between Isaac’s lips with a possessive growl as he pulled him closer. Isaac felt faint with desire as he clutched at Peter’s back, his nails scratching down until Peter nipped at his lip in warning. When Peter’s arms wrapped around Isaac’s waist tighter to push him further on the pool table, Isaac hissed in pain. Peter immediately pulled back.

“I’m fine,” Isaac breathed out, even though he felt a twinge of pain near his ribs. He didn’t want to think about why he was in pain. He only wanted the pleasure Peter’s hands promised.

But Peter pulled back and watched Isaac with his unnerving Hale gaze. “Take off your shirt.”

Isaac had dreamed of Peter telling him these exact same words in this exact same authoritative tone, but all he could feel was dread instead of the pleasure from his fantasies. His father had been heavy-handed with the punches last night and he knew underneath his long-sleeved sweater was a canvas splashed in black and blue. Isaac shook his head softly, eyes widening.

“I’ll not ask again. Take it off, Isaac.”

Isaac sniffed softly and scooted back on the table, creating space between them that suddenly felt cold. He pulled off his sweater slowly. Peter inspected the bruises and scratches on his bare arms with a stony face, giving nothing away. Only his eyes seemed heated, but not with the lust Isaac daydreamed about. No, this fire wasn’t born from pleasure.

“The other shirt as well.” Peter tugged at the hem of Isaac’s undershirt impatiently.

Isaac swallowed and carefully lifted his undershirt, hissing softly when he tilted his waist too far right.

“Who did this to you?” Peter said, his voice rumbling like a wolf ready to hunt.

Isaac shook his head and stared down at his shaking hands.

“School?” Peter asked.

Isaac shook his head again, his eyes burning with tears. Any arousal he felt earlier was replaced with shame. He didn’t want to look like some weak thing to Peter. He wanted to be alluring. He should have known his broken and bruised body couldn't seduce a man as enticing as Peter.

“Home?”

Isaac squeezed his eyes shut and reached his arms around Peter’s neck, dragging the older man closer until he could bury his face in Peter’s neck. He kissed along the exposed skin and whispered desperately. “Peter, please, don’t ask. It’s nothing.”

“It looks like someone used you as a punching bag,” Peter said, his voice tight, but he didn’t push Isaac away. “Answer me, Isaac.”

Isaac’s shoulders tensed and he clung to Peter tighter. Peter rarely used his real name and he hated that it was being used under these circumstances. He sucked softly along Peter’s neck and tightened his legs around him, hoping to distract. “Come on, make me feel good.”

Peter’s hands clenched at his sides, refusing to touch Isaac, but his voice softened when he spoke again. “Pup, please tell me. I only want to help.”

“You can’t.” Isaac sighed and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to go back to what we were doing.”

“I’ll find out, you know,” Peter mused thoughtfully but his hands rested delicately on Isaac’s hips almost as if he was too fragile to handle with anything but care.

Isaac melted into the touch, feeling dread uncurl along his spine into something soft and less daunting. He pressed a gentle kiss to Peter’s cheek and spoke against his skin. “I won’t stop you from finding out. I don’t want you to waste your time with it, but I won’t stop you.”

“You’re not a waste of time, pup.” Peter pulled back. His eyes seemed sad, the edges blurred with something Isaac couldn’t decipher. “Never think that.”

Isaac closed his eyes and kissed Peter again so he wouldn’t cry. He knew he was worth nothing but he didn’t want Peter to be disgusted with him so he didn’t argue. He swiped his tongue along Peter’s lower lip and moaned in approval when Peter returned the kiss, his fingertips gently grazing along Isaac’s bare sides. Peter pulled back and tipped Isaac’s chin up to look into his eyes.

“I’m going to make you feel so good.” He promised softly. “I’m going to make you forget.”

Isaac nodded his head with an enthusiastic smile that made Peter’s lips lift slightly. Peter directed Isaac to scoot back further onto the pool table, pushing him to lie on his back with a press of his warm hand. Then, Peter climbed onto the table and hovered over him with a smirk.

“Will the table hold us?” Isaac wondered with a small giggle, trying to contain his excitement. Finally, he was going to get what he wanted.

“It’ll hold.” Peter said confidently. “Now, a couple rules for today. One, you’re not to move unless I say so. Two, if you’re uncomfortable for any reason you tell me to stop. Got it?”

“Only two rules?” Isaac asked with a cheeky grin.

Peter dipped down and kissed Isaac hard and fast until he couldn’t breathe. When he pulled back, Isaac blinked slowly as his skin tingled pleasantly.

“Got it?”

Isaac nodded. Peter seemed satisfied and proceeded to press soft kisses to each and every bruise on Isaac’s bare skin until he wanted to scream with how turned on his was. His cock throbbed painfully in his jeans.

“Peter, please…” Isaac begged, his hips bucking impatiently.

“Patience, pup.” Peter spoke against Isaac’s navel before licking at the soft trail of hair there.

Isaac whined and pulled at his own scalp. “I am being patient. You’re a horrible tease.”

“I’m horrible, am I?” Peter chuckled and pulled back. Isaac immediately reached out to pull him back, but Peter tutted playfully. “Ah ah, hands to yourself.”

Isaac groaned and wiggled on the table. The short carpet of the pool table scratched his back but it wasn’t unpleasant. It just made his skin feel more on fire. All he could think about was how much he wanted to explode. When Peter finally touched the button on his jeans, he moaned happily.

“You better not come yet.” Peter warned as he zipped down Isaac’s pants and pulled them off with his boxers.

Cool air washed over Isaac’s naked body, but he still felt too hot, all on display for Peter’s hungry gaze to devour. He arched his spine slowly and smirked when he heard Peter growl in his throat. He’d have to remember that for later. The thought of later made a dribble of pre-come slip out of his cock. He almost shouted when Peter dipped down to lap at his leaking head, his large hands holding Isaac’s hips down.

“If you want, you can hold my head.” Peter grinned devilishly as he wrapped his hand around Isaac’s cock, squeezing once. “But that’s it. Also, warn me when you’re going to come.”

Isaac lifted his head up and nodded, his eyes glazed over in pleasure. When Peter licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock, Isaac knew this wouldn’t last long. Nothing prepared him for the warm, wetness of Peter’s mouth as he sucked on the head slowly. Isaac whimpered and slipped a hand into Peter’s hair. He wanted to buck his hips, but Peter held him in place, so he had to lie there and take all the pleasure Peter gave to him.

“Peter,” Isaac bit his lower lip and clenched his eyes shut, “I’m close.”

Peter sucked him in deeper and hollowed his cheeks until Isaac came with a shout, filling up Peter’s mouth as he shuddered out his orgasm. His chest rose and fell quickly and the euphoria dimmed the pain he felt around his ribs with each heavy breath. He felt boneless. When Peter crawled on top of him and kissed him, Isaac moaned at the slightly bitter taste knowing where it came from.

“Feel better, pup?” Peter drawled lazily.

Isaac nodded with a soft smile. He reached down to the waistband of Peter’s jeans, wanting to return the favor, but Peter stilled his hand and shook his head.

“Not today.” When Isaac furrowed his eyebrow in confusion, Peter kissed him softly and spoke again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re perfect. Today was just about pleasing you.”

Isaac blushed and looked away until Peter grabbed his chin and turned his head for another slow kiss. Isaac melted onto the pool table as Peter’s lips owned him. Later, Peter tucked Isaac into his bed and applied salve to his bruises with such tenderness Isaac couldn’t decide which part of the afternoon he had enjoyed more.

“Isaac? You there?” Laura’s voice cut in and Isaac blinked away the memory, his cheeks flushed.

“Huh?”

“Well, since I did all the work you can carry them outside.” Laura huffed but she had a smile on her face.

Isaac cleared his throat and nodded awkwardly before grabbing the nearest full ice chest and heading out back. After carrying out the second ice chest, he swiftly moved away as everyone descended on the chests like thirsty wolves, snatching drinks. To the left, Derek restoked the fire until it blazed brightly again. Isaac fell into one of the mesh folding chairs, losing some of his natural grace with the booze and memories still saturating his brain. He couldn’t tell if his cheeks were warm from the fire or the vodka, but he didn’t mind either way. He rested his head back and closed his eyes, allowing his thoughts to be drowned out by the noise around him. In Washington, he often went to loud places to relax where voices and music thundered in a chaotic thrum. Anything to kill the silence. He stopped enjoying the quiet the day he was first locked in that damn fridge.

The chair next to him creaked but Isaac didn’t open his eyes. Erica’s laugh stuttered far away and a small smile pulled on his lips.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve smiled since you got here. Then again, vodka always did make you chipper.”

Isaac sighed deeply at the sound of Peter’s voice next to him but he refused to open his eyes. The thought of his first time on that pool table was still too fresh in his memory. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the chair and hummed softly. The chair next to him scooted closer.

“So, you’re bent on ignoring me then?” Peter said, amused. “You know how much I love being ignored.”

“I’m not ignoring you.” Isaac sighed and opened his eyes, but kept them focused on the night sky above. “I just think we shouldn’t be near each other.”

“Why?” Peter leaned over, his finger trailing along Isaac’s forearm until it tickled. “Am I that tempting, pup?”

Isaac turned his head to stare a Peter. The fire cast a soft glow on Peter’s face but did nothing to soften his sharp edges. To question if Peter was still tempting was a stupid question. Isaac believed the older man would always tempt him. He just didn’t know if temptation was enough anymore.

“What are we doing, Peter?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious. We’re sitting around a bonfire with pack, like we used to do every Friday evening,” Peter’s lip curled into a snarl, “before you left, of course.”

Isaac leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. “You know why I left,” he said quietly, even though no one sat near them.

Peter sat silently for so long, Isaac thought he may have passed out, except when he looked over, Peter’s gaze was unrelenting as he watched Isaac.

“Yes,” Peter said carefully, “but you were supposed to come back.”

Isaac huffed out a breath that sounded more like a strangled laugh. He heart pounded heavily as he stared back at Peter, realizing the older man was deadly serious.

“Really? Normally when people leave, they don’t come back. I don’t know why you’d expect me to.”

“Because you belong here,” Peter’s hands tightened on the arms of his chair, “with me.”

“I don’t belong anywhere, especially not with you.” Isaac stood up, his thighs shaking. “I can’t do this right now.” He stormed off toward the house, ignoring the concerned looks from Laura and Erica. When Stiles reached out to touch his arm, he shrugged it off and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just need some water,” Isaac said with a tight smile, “Pack dinners always have the strongest vodka you know.”

Stiles didn’t look convinced, but when Derek pulled him back against his chest and murmured in his ear, Stiles gave a small nod. Isaac didn’t want to think about what Derek was whispering and if it had to do with him. The kitchen still bustled with the newbies cleaning when Isaac walked in. He reached into the fridge and snagged a cider he knew Laura bought just for him before popping the top off and drinking it as he stalked through the house. Most of the pack lingered outside by the bonfire so the rest of the house seemed empty. Isaac hated it. He headed up the stairs, unsure of what he was looking for. He just needed to keep moving. The loud steps of combat boots behind him made him walk faster.

He didn’t know which room he wanted to hide in. He didn’t even know who the rooms belonged to now. Laura’s was the same, but was Peter’s? Or even his own room? Did someone take it over?

“Your room is still the one on the left.” Peter said softly behind him.

Isaac tensed. He drained the rest of his drink before he turned around, eyebrow raised. “Do you want me to throw this bottle at you?”

Peter barked out a laugh and a small smile involuntarily tugged at Isaac’s lips. He was always a sucker for Peter’s laugh.

“It’s not funny. I’ll throw it.” Isaac gripped the bottle tighter.

“I don’t doubt it.” Peter’s laughter died down but he still smiled as he leaned against the wall. “You always were a pup with a bite.”

Isaac rolled his eyes but the smile he was fighting to keep in spread on his face. “You always say the nicest things.”

“Oh, how I’ve missed your sarcasm.” Peter pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them. He flicked at one of the buttons on Isaac’s shirt and looked up at him with a confident smirk. “I’ve missed other things about you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Hardly.” Peter chuckled breathlessly as he flicked his nail on another shirt button, the soft tapping sound loud between them.

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” Isaac leaned back against the wall with a soft sigh, his empty bottle dangling at his side.

“You know I’ve never been one to give in easily.” Peter shrugged as he stepped closer.

Their chests pressed together and Isaac felt dizzy, his skin warming as if he was still sitting in front of the bonfire. The desire to just give in to Peter was winning even if he knew he only had two more days here until he went back to Washington. To home, he mentally corrected himself even if his heart beat a twinge in protest.

“I just don’t know what game you’re playing.” Isaac kept his hands at his sides even when Peter pressed his own against Isaac’s hips, his palms possessive as always. “I never know what game we’re playing.”

“Whichever game allows me to win you as the prize.” Peter leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to the underside of Isaac’s jaw.

Isaac’s eyes fluttered closed as he sucked in a sharp breath. His grasp loosened until he dropped his empty bottle, the glass clunking on the hardwood but not shattering. He pressed his palms against the wall and tilted his head up just enough for Peter to nuzzle against the soft skin of his throat. When Peter bit down, he gasped softly and bucked his hips.

“Go downstairs,” Peter whispered against his skin with a swipe of tongue. “Go relax with your family…They missed you. I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” He stepped back and rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, his eyes conflicted. “Later, if you find yourself wanting comfort, my room is still across from yours.”

With a wink, Peter turned around and sauntered off toward his bedroom. It wasn’t until Isaac heard the door click shut that he allowed himself to breathe again.


End file.
